


Fake Chop Origin Story

by ahshli



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Cow Chop - Freeform, Fake AH Crew, Fake Chop, FakeHaus, Gen, Little Roosters, Pre-Fake Chop, achievement hunter - Freeform, gta alternate universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 13:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14238615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahshli/pseuds/ahshli
Summary: A city overrun by small, plague-like, symptoms known lesser crews, the Fake AH Crew dominates them all. They control every news outlet, interview, article- all blasting their presence to the rest of the city. The citizens of Los Santos has their eyes on the Fake AH Crew. It's only until two newcomers entering the fray, fresh onto the scene of the underground network of heisting, is when Geoff "Kingpin" Ramsey realizes the Fake AH Crew might not be the crew everyone's talking about.





	1. Chapter 1

Grinning ear-to-ear, Michael "Rage Quit" Jones, the angriest of the Crew was silently thanking every possible deity for the inscrutable success of Gavin “Golden Boy” Free's miserably-planned heist. Riding together on a motorcycle, Michael swerved around the honking cars, the drivers spewing out a string of curses, sticking fingers in all directions. Just over the buildings were helicopters signaling for the braking of the two members, with numerous police cars following the lads. Gavin squawked out directions to the location the B Team gave them, allowing for the full meet-up of the Los Santos notorious Fake AH Crew. 

Geoff Lazer Ramsey, the citizens of Los Santos knowing him as the “Kingpin,” awaited the duo of catastrophe. He checked his watch, atop his heavily-tattooed arm, when he felt a slender hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Miss Jack Patillo, the motherly figure of the group. She curved her lips and said reassuringly, "They'll be here." He turned back, and stared at the opening of the alley, hoping for the two to ride in, guns blazing. The Vagabond threw a rubber ball at the opposite wall, playing his own little game, keeping distracted before they pull off the biggest heist of all of Los Santos history. In comparison of the Vagabond's chill behavior, the newest recruit of the team, a short but well-built man, clad in orange, yellow, and purple which led to constant taunting by his fellow peers, Rimmy Tim, was jumping around, his bubbly voice excited to take place in this heist with none other than the Fake AH Crew. He ran around, laughing to himself, fixing his large cowboy hat that kept falling off. 

All of the crew members, including its own B Team, essentially the FAHC's sidekicks, were ambitious to pull off the most heinous crime in this city, plagued with little gangs, attempting to be written next to the Fake AH Crew in the Infamous Wanted. They desired nothing more but to make it to the front page of every magazine, every newspaper, nothing more but to take every second of the news, being the headline of every talk show. This way, their legacy can live forever. There is a way to achieve immortality, and the Fake AH Crew was making that its top priority. Now there was nothing to do but wait. Suddenly, the smallest movements were amplified by hundreds: the Kingpin’s eyebrow twitching, the bouncing of the Vagabond’s ball, Rimmy’s hat falling.

"Go, go, go!" Michael Jones has arrived, screaming and kicking, carrying a duffel bag, holding rare sorts of jewels from various museums and jewelry shops, belonging to the top tiers of the government, some gems going back to the 19th century, along with thousands of dollars. Gavin was barely holding onto the motorcycle, a tint of green fixed on his face. Jack yelled at all of them to jump into the unmarked, black van. The Crew hopped in and shut the doors, the police distantly cursing, believing the Crew just disappeared into thin air. Ironically, the city with the most crime had a negligent police department, which did bode well for the FAHC. Everyone cheered in the van, whoops and hollers floating around. Good vibes came from everyone and Geoff smiled warmly at his creation of the best gang in Los Santos. Michael ruffled Gavin’s blonde hair, spiraling him to squawk loudly in surprise and try to tame his tousled hair. Geoff patted Rimmy’s shoulders, him glowing from the Kingpin’s fatherliness. Even the Vagabond had his lips curved upward, behind the dark paint. 

A crackly voice came on the intercom: "Guys, G-ys! W- made it on the breaking news! Th-y say this -- the most destructi-- ---st of all time!" Treyco's voice boomed, with applauds of the rest of the B Team. Everyone laughs and congratulates themselves on another successful heist. The van radiated warmth- a feeling mimicking a homely gathering, not something one would expect from renowned criminals completing another heist. Nonetheless, they whooped and cheered, all basking in the brilliance of success.

It soon came to a full halt, not even after a few minutes, when a startled Treyco came back on, his voice clear this time: "Guys. We got a problem. Check this out.” All their phones pinged immediately, everyone turning to one of their newest recruits, Alfredo, The Sauce, trying to juggle driving through the rugged terrain and holding up his laptop. Video feed of a famous news station was displayed on the bright screen. All the crew members peered closer to see what they were on about. All they could make out was a split-screen.

Confusion fell upon every face of the Crew, a few seconds silent before an eruption of anger-filled yells. Treyco shut them up by yelling back, and further expanding on his previous statement. "Someone else is heisting! Every single news outlet has a split-screen! They're calling this the 'Double Heist of the Century!'" Geoff's face fell as his endeavor of fame was rapidly dwindling down by the second. They couldn't possibly share the fame, the spotlight, with some amateurs! Michael started to tremble in rage, in anger, trying to find the right words to scream out his frustration, but remained eerily quiet, words unable to be formed. Gavin slowly started to hyperventilate, his chest contracting, fear taking over at what is next to go utterly wrong. And Rimmy Tim. His eyes were downcast as his first heist is not going as expected, his teammates disappointed. The Vagabond and Jack, logical and keeping a level head, continued to talk to the B Team.

"Well? Who are the fuckers who sabotaged us?" 

Matt, in the control room back at the base of operations, stared at the glossy small screen, watching a split screen. Obviously, the AH's heist was not full-screen-worthy, as every local station played the footage they had of the Crew next to some people. Matt peered closer to the TV trying to determine what crew was this. Fakehaus? No, they were part of our community, our Crew. They would've notified us, Matt thought. He continued to race his mind to conjure up every outside crew that he has studied for this purpose. And for the life of him, he could not think of one that it could be. To rob the Mayor of Los Santos? No other crew besides one in their community would be this ballsy- if it were one of them, they would’ve made sure it was run by the Kingpin. It has to be newcomers, fresh onto the scene. Novices from whatever basement they call their 'base' and must have gathered inspiration from us, Matt believed. But how can these believed-to-be amateurs do so damn well? They are actually competing with the Fake AH Crew... and winning!

A red-haired woman clad in a dress and boots sipped her coffee and walked over to Matt. "Well?" she asked. Matt shook his head and turned around to go kick a trash bin or something of that nature. Lindsay continued to watch the TV, her eyes trying to focus on the figures. The footage revealed Gavin and Michael so well, their faces so clearly visible for anyone to see, but the other two people? All the coverage gives are some fucking blurry silhouettes in the corner of CCTV video capture. Then, something happened that none of the B Team, nor Fake AH Crew, would have expected. Lindsay dropped her cup of coffee, the world slowing down, the only words echoing were Treyco's 'The split screen is gone. It's only them now.'

The black van exploded with anger. The members of the FAHC looked out the window to see vanishing helicopters and police cars, turning the other way, while only a few cruddy cars, slow with age, rocked behind the cars yards away. Geoff was calling for Alfredo to do some tricks, something that can attract the media attention. Rimmy Tim and Gavin opened the doors in the back of the van, while Michael unleashed his minigun onto bypassing cars and pedestrians, while the Vagabond threw grenades, smoking out vehicles and motorcyclists. The B Team scrambled to anonymously tip the police where the Crew's van was, to attract them more, but all the lines were busy, probably from the other robbery going on. Finally, Treyco's voice blared over the loud noises of all members, calling that he knows who the competing gang is, shushing them momentarily. He yells, "Two dudes wearing cow outfits!"

_______

 

An older teenager clad in an actual cow costume held a bag full of some random shit they found when they broke into the mayor of Los Santos' house. He giggled and laughed, bubbly from this silly prank. He and his friend carved little signatures in walls and floors around the place, scratching cow faces with some knives from their kitchen, not really organizing this "heist." His friend, dressed in similar gear, gave a goofy smile and motioned him to follow. They mainly came here to rattle the mayor, who constantly berates the youth of Los Santos, and does not care for his agenda to help the impoverished and unfortunate teenagers of the poorer parts of the big city. 

As they snuck out of the house, multiple alarms blared at them, to the point where both fell off the wall from surprise they were attempting to climb. The Mayor and a woman- definitely not his wife- screamed at the duo, who continued to fumble around, scavenging for the items that toppled from the loot bag. The Mayor even shot at the two as he bellowed into his phone to have every single police squad on the hunt for these two “hoodlums”, as they might’ve gotten some very compromising photos of him and his alleged mistress, but, in this case, for the story to continue, they luckily survived. 

"What the hell are they screaming at us?" the younger one asked slowly, re-adjusting his sunglasses. The older one jumps on his dad's motorcycle that he "borrowed," and the younger one follows suit. 

"I dunno. It's almost like we broke into the fucking Mayor's house," the older chuckles, then sighs as he revs up the vehicle. They take off, barely missing a few shots, the voices of the Mayor growing quieter and smaller. "It's real fuckin' hot." 

They both pull off their large cow masks off, revealing two young men, one barely an adult, about to be 18, and another 20 years old. The younger one runs a hand through his fake-looking blonde hair. A bleach job he did himself, coming out not as expected, but not bothered enough to give a proper shit about it. Paired with brown eyes and a pale complexion, he embodied the highest evolution of a white boy. The other one, driving the motorcycle, avoiding traffic and threading the needle through alleyways and unknown shortcuts, showcases dark, extremely curly hair, but thrown into a bun atop his head, accented with brown eyes and a constant smile.

"James!" the younger one screams at James, him narrowly missing a car. They both giggle and continue driving, avoiding major intersections where they can easily be found. 

"Dude, I hear something," James says and proceeds to slow down. "Jesus Christ," James mutters, looking up at the sky to see helicopters flying around, calling out for two "slim men wearing cow costumes". "Fuck, that's us, Aleks!" James freaks out, as Aleks looks up and gives a peace sign to the frantic cops about. He shrugs and says, "Let's just go underground, my man."

James turns around to stare at Aleks. "You're high right now!" 

"Dude, keep your fuckin' eyes on the road!" Aleks yells into James' ear, causing him to swerve from whatever direction he was previously headed to, and almost hitting poles on the sidewalk. James rolls his eyes at Aleks' directions; why should he listen to someone who isn't taking this seriously? 

"Put your masks on! God damn, what did we do?" James yells at Aleks, as he struggles to put his own on. Blaring voices above continue to bounce off the skyscrapers.

"Surrender while you can! We will resort to death on sight!" The police repeat over and over again, drilling the phrases into the duo's brains. They continue to twist and turn and curse, confused and wary from the multiple cops looking for them, and wondering why the fuck they are making this a huge priority. Like, damn, all this for some fucking photos? They’re blurry as shit, anyways, James thought, as Aleks laid his head on his back. Probably fuckin' snoozing, James shook his head, as he rapidly pivoted left into some cruddy alleyway. His mind races, going over what could have possibly happened that made the actual Secret Service or some government spies or something ordering some teens to turn themselves in. 

"What is that?" Aleks pipes from behind and James screeches to a halt, eyeing the scene in front of him. 

"Who are you guys?" James asks while analyzing an escape route in case something goes down. Heavyset men stand in front of a black van, with some mustachioed fellow with a stringy-haired woman by his side. 

"You two the ones that the mayor is chasin'?" The mustachioed one asks, with a threatening voice. Tension filled the air and James wasn't sure why but he didn't like what was happening. He slowly shakes his head, although it's clear, as the sky where helicopters roam calling for two teens wearing cow outfits, that they were the ones. Two younger men standing behind the man, arms crossed, sigh and start walking menacingly at the duo, with the simple command of the mustachioed fellow: "Get 'em."


	2. Chapter 2

James comes to in a dark, enclosed place. His heartbeat quickens and beads of sweat start to form on his forehead. He tries to wipe them away but realizes his hands are bound. Everything hits him at once, where he and his best friend were actually hunted by people. By law-enforcers. All they wanted to do was play some pranks on the mayor for neglecting youth of Los Santos. And now they are the most wanted men in the county. Time seems to cease and he exasperatedly tries to wiggle around, attempting to roll into a wall or maybe Aleks. Aleks. 

"Aleks!" James harshly whispers. His eyes still haven't adjusted, or it’s legitimately pitch-black wherever he is. He doesn't hear anything, not a shifting of clothing or a blow of breath. He closes his eyes and sits, for some time for a few minutes. 

"James." James ears perk up and sees a light a few feet from him. "Aleks!" James crawls over to his friend, holding up a match in his bound wrists. 

"What the fuck happened, dude?" Aleks asks James, squinting his eyes at the flame. James shakes his head. Aleks sighs and tries to hand the match to James, who backs away and curses at Aleks' stupidity of practically throwing a match to burn him. "What the fuck dude- ow! You fuckin' asshole!" He laughs cheekily and James rolls his eyes. James rubs his arms and glares at his jailmate. "Can we be serious for a minute?"

"Take this match, and, I don't know, try burning off these!" Aleks stares at his wrists bound with zip ties. "You wanna burn yourself? C'mon, you gotta do..." James pauses, trying to get a right angle of sitting and bends his wrists. He scrunches his face in an effort and the zip tie breaks in two, flying in opposite directions. Aleks laughs and smiles in awe at the little feat James completed. 

"How'd you do that!?" Aleks exclaims, in wonder. James gives a grin and mumbles something about some video he watched a while ago. He helps Aleks get out of the fetters, but he didn't need to. Doors burst open and the same group of gangsters come in, a few holding pistols, and as before, the mustachioed one stands in front of them all. 

Aleks steps in front of James and turns around to face him, and winks. Aleks speaks up. 

"What do you guys want?" He eyes them all suspiciously and holds his head up to these group of men, although he, himself, is barely the legal age. James takes a stance next to Aleks and tries to mimic the amount of confidence Aleks is exuding. 

"We're the Fake AH Crew," the mustachioed man states, simply. "I'm the leader. The name's Geoff." Aleks nods and glances to the other people surrounding Geoff. 

"Why are you guys doing this?" James asks Geoff, who gives a half-laugh. 

"Your little stunt, dressed in those little outfits, y'know, the media just ate that act up. They showed full coverage, even though our biggest robbery was in motion. And maybe you young'uns wouldn't know, but the Fake AH Crew doesn't let anyone humiliate the most dangerous gang in all of Los Santos." Intimidatingly, Geoff pushes up his dress shirt's white sleeves to reveal numerous tattoos painted all over his arms. He gives a smirk and lifts up two fingers, signaling people to come over. The same younger men come forward with their pistols and hold it up to their foreheads.

James widens his eyes and exclaims undecipherable words while Aleks has trouble getting anything out, remaining silent, although his brown eyes cried out much more. James gets a grip and waves his hands out and screams, "Wait!" The duo lowers their guns and rolls their eyes. "Humor us," the blonde one says, having a hint of a British accent in his voice. 

"Okay, well. We don't really know what we are doing! Listen, we adore you guys, actually! The Fake AH Crew! Heard you on the news ever since middle school!" James nods pleadingly, and a vomit of words come out to save his own ass. Maybe Aleks, too.

"And, okay, can you lower the gun a little more? Man, we just wanted to get back at the mayor... He's a fuckin'..." James smiles nervously at them. Aleks and both the men reply different insults, including 'dumb-ass,' 'shitface,' and more curses to that nature.

"Yeah, yeah! So, please, we won't do anything, please let us go home. We wore the outfits to hide our identities, so no one would know some teens got the better of you! I bought it on Amazon for fun… it wasn’t meant to hurt you guys or anything!" James continues to ramble, while Aleks sighing, realizing this stupid mistake of trespassing the top politician’s manor led to this whole thing. Geoff, surprisingly instead of killing the two, raises his eyebrow. He raises his hand, and to Aleks' and James' surprise, Geoff's henchmen lower their weapons. 

"How about a test?" Geoff asks the boys, rhetorically, of course, as these teenagers would do anything to save themselves. Aleks and James seem to be willing, nodding their heads and pleading silently with their eyes to give them a sliver of a chance to live their lives. Geoff laughs at them, maybe because they had a lot of passion in them to keep going, or maybe because they were acting extremely weak. Either way, Geoff continues to talk.

"Listen. We got a job. It requires some extra folks, to do some tasks that are too... daunting for our current members." Geoff looks awkwardly to the rest of his Crew. James and Aleks light up, their eyes glowing. "Yes, we can do it!" They bounced happily, being offered a job too difficult for the one and only Fake AH Crew, and in return...

"Wait, what do we get in return?" Aleks stops smiling and asks. Geoff scoffs and replies immediately, "Uh, your lives." 

"Well, Mister...Geoff. Please do understand that, well, maybe a small portion of the money would go a long way for a couple of losers like us. I mean, if we fail, we probably die, I'm guessing?" James pauses his little speech to gain a couple of scattered nods, and an affirmative statement from Geoff.

"So, actually completing this given task, that you have so graciously given us this second chance, we get our lives, and maybe something to help us keep going. As this task seems very difficult, so..." James trails off, trying to usher responses to his wish to get some fucking money.

"No. You get your goddamn lives, okay, guys? I can kill you right here and no one will ever know what happened to you both, but here I am giving a chance! Take it," Geoff exclaims, anger building in his voice. James and Aleks shrink and reply with quiet 'yes, sirs. Geoff turns around on his heels and barks orders to a tall man wearing face paint to give the kids a place to sleep.

Face Paint shoves them with the butt of his gun and orders them with his eyes. Aleks and James gruffly walk to wherever he leads, their expressions clearly knowing they're fucked. 

_______

"Hey, James... You awake yet?" A voice drifts from the other side of the bedroom to James' ears. The light barely seeps through the bottom of the door, indicating the beginning of the morning. James roughly turns around, to signify his lack of desire to talk to Aleks. Aleks sighs.

"James, what the fuck are we doing here? Can't we escape now?" Aleks gets up and inspects the room. The room is locked from inside out and the windows are bolted shut. This gang doesn't play around. There's a TV, but all that's on it are some news channels. Surprisingly, still talking about the "Culprit Cows," much to Geoff's dismay. 

"We just wait it out. They aren't telling us jackshit, and what if we do escape, and we're in the middle of nowhere? Walking for miles until we starve and die. Aleks, think a little." James shuts his eyes tight, trying to get some form of rest, but this whole situation awakened loads of anxiety for him. He can barely think straight, without some scenario of how this can go totally wrong.

"This never would've happened if we just played some fuckin' Mario Kart," Aleks whispers quietly, luckily without James hearing him. James most likely would've taken it the wrong way, he thinks. 

"Good morning, kids," a woman comes into the room, holding some clothes and a tray of food. She smiles brightly at the duo, leaving them confused at the hospitality shown by one of the FAHC's members. "Geoff didn't want to give you guys anything. But I can't do that to you, boys." She smiles again.

"I'm Jack. Pleased to meet you, Aleks and James," she sings, pointing at each one as she says their names. She sets down the food, composing of various, average breakfast foods. The two boys stare at her walk away and look at each other, thinking the "same" thing.

"We gotta warm up to her for our chance outta here!"

"I’d tap it.”

James sighs in annoyance at Aleks raised eyebrows and awkward dancing around. Aleks straightens up and then nods seriously, contrasting his previous mood. "We definitely need to be friends with her."

They nod in agreement and start to eat silently together. They give each other funny looks and play around with their food, never able to fucking keep their serious manner for more than 3 minutes. Knocking on the door gets them out of their jokes and perks them up. Geoff walks into the room, looking around and locating the two boys. 

"You both. Follow me." Geoff turns on his heels, revealing a gun tucked in the back of his white shirt. James and Aleks exchange looks, and quietly get up and follow the boss. 

"We're gonna plan out this heist, giving you two jobs, and training you... It'll be hard as dicks. But you guys. I think you can do it!" Geoff continues talking and talking, the duo rolling eyes and slouching at the lectures, giving as much attention as they would to their anatomy teacher. They hate anatomy.

Geoff leads them to a dark room, the members’ faces barely lit up with bright blue computer screens. The room itself is small, cramped, with 6 people, now squeezing in Aleks and James. Everyone is holding a folder, and there in the space next to Jack is an extra one. Aleks grabs one without thinking, to James' horror. 

"Aleks, put it down!" James whispers harshly to Aleks as the FAHC members talked about their own things related to the heist, taking no notice of the two arguing. Aleks gives a confused look, and says, "Look, it's us."

James peers at the folder Aleks is clutching and sees the duo's faces, next to descriptions of their jobs and other various tidbits of info. They both read it, learning different names and times they must remember, who they are infiltrating as, who they need to trust and not...

The British one snaps the boys' heads up, squawking, "You two! Sit down and listen up." They both heed the man's instructions and sit down, on the same seat, to each others' surprise. 

"You get off!"

"No, fuck you."

"Here's the plan, boys," Geoff smacks his hands together, grabbing everyone's attention and shutting up James and Aleks. Geoff continues, "We're going to rob the bank down in Downtown, Pacific Standard." He pauses, while everyone whoops and cheers, knowing that place is loaded with the richer customers.

"But in doing so, we need to know the guard's routines. We need to get copies of keys to basic areas. We need someone on the inside. Now we have two shots at that!" Geoff points over to Aleks and James, who squeeze into their one seat, trying to appear smaller. Everyone chuckles and Geoff continues. 

"They are currently hiring some temps! And our faces are way too known, and the B-Team is composed of stupidity and beer. We were thinking of branching out to Fakehaus, but let's be honest, no one wants to share the money with those fuckers." Everyone nods in agreement, and James gulps.

"That leaves our two boys here!" Geoff strolls over to them, placing a hand on their shoulders, smiling almost fatherly to them. Aleks stares at Geoff frankly, causing Geoff to awkwardly pat him on the back and walk back to the front.

"They're going to get those jobs. Who would say no to some teens trying to earn some money for their low-income family, right, guys?" James nods vigorously. "Good. They're gonna earn trust and kiss up and get the intel we need."

James pipes up, his voice cutting the air: "What if we don't get the jobs, or screw it up?" The room turns silent, the air extremely heavy with tension as Geoff's voice floats over to the boys' ears.

"We'll have to kill you."


	3. Chapter 3

James lays on the bed, rubbing his eyes, which are marked with fatigue. Aleks climbs on his bed and looks up, lovingly to James. "What the fuck you want?"

"Isn't it crazy how weird all this got?" Aleks turns and lies on his back, next to James. He shifts away from the blonde boy and replies, "I wonder about our parents."

"They probably didn't even notice," Aleks retorts, a tinge of anger and sadness woven into his voice. James closes his eyes and stays quiet for a minute. They lay in silence, the darkness creeping its way into their minds, increasing their tiredness. Right before James was about to sleep, Aleks whispers, "What if we mess up?"

James snorts and says, "We fucking die. Didn't he establish that pretty well?" Aleks takes a deep breath and replies, "We should sneak around the place."

"Did you not hear what I just said? They can easily kill us, and sneaking around seems like a good reason to get that face-paint guy to torture our asses." Aleks shrugs and says, "You wanna go over the mission?"

"I walk in and introduce myself as Trevor Schmitdy, the dude who actually got the interview. I charm them up until they for sure get me the job. You distract the real Trevor, away from the bank. I fuckin' slam that interview and get the job, and make sure to attend all shifts for the next week or so.

“Why don’t I pose as Trevor? I’m younger and you look old as shit with that pubic hair on your face,” Aleks laughs out loud, James jumping at him, ready to wring his neck. James angrily counters, “I’d rather not leave my fucking life in your shit-caked hands.” Aleks feigns pain as he clutches his heart while James rolls his eyes.

"Get back on track. There's gonna be a young guy, older than us though. Joseph. Super gullible, and easy to gain his trust. I gotta keep bugging him and soon, he'll bend to whatever questions I got. If you want, all the outlined plans, files, and maps are in the drawer." James pauses to think while rubbing his eyes, hiding the fatigue strewn in his irises. He finishes off with, "I think that's it." Aleks nods and sighs. 

"Damn, we're going to die," he states, unemotionally. James silently agrees.

Both of them seem to have gone to sleep, waking up eight hours later, forgetting everything that happened last night. Until it hit them all at once while they were brushing their teeth. James chokes on some spit while Aleks laughs. 

"Today's the day!" Aleks says, clasping his hands together, as he walks out the bathroom. James quickly takes off his shirt and rolls his eyes. "I'm not ready," he says, anxiety building within him. He shakes his head, trying to shake away bad thoughts and pulls on a dress shirt. He proceeds to pull on slacks and tucks in his shirt. Aleks throws a jacket at him, causing angry, silent glares from his friend. Aleks smiles, sweetly, and walks over with a tie. 

"Gotta look your sharpest, young man!" Aleks says, imitating any old-timey old teacher from some cartoon. He tries to fiddle around with the piece of cloth, looping it around itself and undoing it accidentally. Aleks continues to attempt to tie James' tie, who gets frustrated and tells him to get away. He tries it himself, but to no avail. A knocking at the door takes away their attention from that damn tie to a purple-and-orange-clad man who stepped in.

"I'm so sorry we keep you locked in here. But it's for the best. Hello, I'm Rimmy," the man outstretches his hand, revealing his full figure. Aleks and James try to contain their laughter from not just his name but also his height. This man was absurdly short. Rimmy slowly realizes what they're thinking and takes his hand away. "Well, in any case, we should head to the bank now." He turns away and leads the boys to an equally-unique/disconcerting car as Rimmy's clothes. Geoff's voice floats to them, from wherever he was on the estate, screaming at Rimmy.

"You are not taking that car! In fact, stop! Let Michael take them! You're way too distracting!" Rimmy looks up, trying to locate the voice, but his endeavors turn out fruitless. Rimmy sighs under his breath, and stomps off, mentioning to wait for Michael and his "normal-looking car."

The angry man comes out, which James and Aleks deem to be Michael. He curses at them to get in the car, and the two jump in, already fearing this guy. They hop into the backseat, and Michael zooms through the busy streets of Los Santos, trying to not attract cops but not giving a fuck about traffic lights. Although James and Aleks experienced a high-speed chase with helicopters and police cars while they were only on one motorcycle, their level of fright rose to a max with this ticking bomb in the driver's' seat.

"I'm dropping you off a block from the bank. You kids better start running if you want to get there before the other guy." Michael drives away, narrowly hitting a pedestrian, who carries on to curse at the black car. James and Aleks look at each other, embarrassed, and start to slowly jog toward the building that looms ahead, marking a very important place in their lives.

They finally make it to the entrance, in perfect timing, too. Aleks observes the faces in the crowd and clearly recognizes the fifteen-year-old from the photo given to him by the Crew. The large eyebrows and pale skin give away the boy wearing an oversized jacket and slacks, Converse, and some flannel shirt as Trevor, the guy James is supposed to replace. Aleks taps him on the shoulder to let him know he's going for the kill, as James nods. He nonchalantly walks over to the entrance of the building, giving one last glance to his partner, who is eagerly talking in a Russian accent to the confused boy, before he walks in, sealing their fate.

James takes a deep breath and locates a secretary, who stares at him. "Hello, Miss. I'm here for a job interview, as an intern." She nods and asks, "Name?" James replies with the correct name, and she gives a suspicious look.

"Says here you're 15." James gulps visibly, and laughs, hopefully not sounding nervous. "Must be my dad. Early bloomer."

She gets up and says, "Follow me." James clasps his hands together and follows the woman. She leads him upstairs and to a big office. "Wait here, please. Mr. Burns will be here momentarily." She turns on her heels and walks out. James gives a measly laugh and plops down on one of the swivel chairs. 

Meanwhile, Aleks runs a hand through his hair. "Can I go?" Trevor asks. Aleks shushes him and says, "Look, cutie group at 3 o'clock." 

Trevor turns his head left, but Aleks interjects, "No, that way!" He points to a group of women, looking lost as they try to navigate the streets. Trevor sighs and says, monotone, "If it was that way, then it would've been 5 o'clock. You really should learn-" 

"Hello, ladies. You guys seem a little lost," Aleks says, to which one girl pipes up, her voice thick with an accent, "Thank God, we need your help, please!" Her friend rolls her eyes and replies, "We just need to know where the nearest hotel." She looks at him with dark brown eyes and Aleks scrunches his face in confusion. His mind blanks and Trevor interrupts. 

"There's a nice, but affordable, hotel around the corner, or 6 o'clock from here," he states in a flat voice, making a deal to emphasize the last statement to Aleks, and continues, "but if you are looking for a manor with grandiose, I suggest Pegasus or Viceroy. Very elegant." He kisses his fingers, earning a few giggles from the group. The women squeeze his cheeks and gush over his kindness and helpfulness. They walk away thanking Trevor, and Aleks glares at him. "You little- damn, you're sneaky." Trevor smiles and then widens his eyes. 

"Fuck, my interview! Why'd you distract me with that accent! Fuck, my mom's going to kill me!" He breathes heavily, shoving his hand into his pocket. He grabs some granola bar and rips off the wrapper, sadness marking his eyes. Aleks puts his hands on his shoulders. "No, my man, just lie, say you went and it didn't go as planned. Also, you should chill with me. You're cool."

Trevor pushes him away and replies, "Nah, man, I wanted the money. Damn, this sucks." He tugs on his oversized jacket, and mutters, "Got dressed up and everything." He takes a bite. Heavy stillness rested in the atmosphere around the two.

Aleks hesitates, feeling sorry for the kid. He pauses before thinking, Screw it. 

"Hey, Trevor. I have this ingenious plan, and I need you to help me."


	4. Chapter 4

"Mr. Schmitdy, this was wonderful! You are quite remarkable," the older man exclaims, causing James to smile and blush. "Oh, it's nothing, sir. After all, you should only deserve the best aids to help out!" The older man laughs heartily and pats James on the back as he escorts him out of his office. 

"I'll have Anjali call you soon. Get your schedule ready, I feel like you're going to be busy real soon!" He winks and James finger-guns at him. They both walk away laughing, and as soon as James turns the corner, he clutches his chest and frowns. The secretary walks him back to the entrance, and James looks around to find his friend. Nowhere.

James checks out the area again, and cannot find the boy. God, I hope nothing bad happened, he thinks, while loosening his crudely-done tie. He cuts a corner and finds Aleks and Trevor having a conversation. James turns back around, but not quick enough. Aleks shouts his name, and he turns around, again, and has anger plastered on his face. He exaggeratedly puts a finger to his mouth, to shut Aleks up, but he continues screaming. 

James stomps over to the two, and asks, "What the fuck? Who is this?" He tries to give to the element of ignorance but Aleks dismisses it with a wave of his hand. "Trevor knows everything." Trevor waves hi, awkwardly, as he takes another bite of his granola bar. 

James' jaw drops to the floor and he starts to shove Aleks. "You just love playing with my fucking life! Our asses are on the fucking line, and you do fuckin' what! Tell the first person you have contact with! I'm gonna-" James looks around and sees stares and even some phones popping up, people ready to hit record. He sighs and unclenches his fist. "How much did you tell him?" He asks in a smaller voice.

Trevor says, wide-eyed and slightly smiling, "Everything, my man." His face is dazed at meeting the "Cow Culprits," starting to whisper excitedly how he laughed so hard when he saw that on the screen. James smacks his bar from his hand, the bar crumbling onto the ground before he went to take another bite. Trevor looks dejectedly down and looks up at James. 

"Well, man, we're going to get Trevor hooked up on this ingenious plan to get out of the Fake AH Crew's hair. He's real good with technology," Aleks whispers, excitement trailing his voice, something that finally gets Aleks exuberant after the apprehension-filled days before. James starts to look interested. That's good, both Trevor and Aleks think.

"I can provide some bugs, some mini microphones and keep track of anything important they say. Y'know, knowing when they’re taking a trip to a local strip club in the middle of the night can give you enough time to get out of there," Trevor adds to Aleks' plan. James' curiosity piques and he crosses his arms. "This... could work." James paces around the busy street, and replies quickly, "My first shift starts tomorrow at noon. You think you can get them to me by that time?" Trevor nods, and Aleks pats him on the back.

"We owe you a shit-ton. Thanks, my man!" James yells, walking backward to the meeting spot Michael assigned to them before he zoomed off. Trevor gives a thumbs-up, his eyes slightly showing confusion of what just happened, but nonetheless shining. Aleks follows after James, and they bubble in happiness. "We're getting the fuck outta there!" They high-five, just as the car cruises right next to them. 

"Get in, bozos." A man says, not sounding like any of the FAHC's voices. They look at each other, then decide to step in anyways, despite raising suspicion. A man wearing tight clothing and some eyeliner slaps on a smile. 

"Sometimes work with the FAHC. Hate them, though." He smiles again, extending his hand to the passenger seat, where James sat. "Name's Kovic. Nice to meet you all." James awkwardly shakes his hand, scared that Kovic isn't taking much care to drive safely. I guess all fuckin' gang members don't really care about traffic laws all that much, James thinks. 

"Kovic, why couldn't the Fake AH Crew pick us up?" Aleks pipes up from the back. Kovic chuckles and retorts, "Sounds like they're your parents or something. Lighten up! Just paying yet another favor." Kovic laughs afterward. "Had to help them out with my own crew after their heist failed miserably. But don't tell 'em you know that, they hate remembering they had to ask for FakeHaus' help."

Aleks and James shift uncomfortably in their seats. Having connections to two different gangs is insane. They can't believe the recent developments in their lives over the past few days. 

Kovic speeds up, cutting sharp corners into a more secluded area. He takes multiple turns, making sure no one is tailing him. After 10 mind-numbing minutes of turning in circles, they end up in front of the manor. The duo gets out, saying bye to Kovic.

"He seems much cooler than any of the others," Aleks says, watching his car drive away. James shrugs and walks inside. Entering the building, they are met with only two guys, the Brit, to which they discovered was Gavin, and Face-Paint, who was Ryan. Standing relaxed by a mini-bar situated near the entrance of the living room, they turn around and notice the two interlopers. They smile awkwardly and wave hello, wherein James and Aleks return the greetings. The silence is heavy and ironically, deafening. The fact that they have been living together for a couple days, and still don't know each other's last names says a lot. 

"Want to join the conversation? Plebeian Ryan thinks that there's no chance we will complete this heist successfully. But we have you two extra lot, we saved so much ammo and armor for this, and Geoff's been nonstop sending us to gun ranges and forcing us to practice. I think we got this in the bag!" Gavin says, his voice having a natural crescendo of excitement. Ryan rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. Aleks stares blankly at Ryan, never hearing him talk.

"How did you know Ryan thinks that?" Aleks asks, pointing to the man hidden with face paint. They both have a confused look on their face and Aleks motions to his mouth. James slaps Aleks upside the head. 

"Oh, no, he talks. Just not with guests," Gavin explains, quickly. He slouches casually and continues, "Doesn't trust you lot. He's super paranoid, but I guess that makes him the best in the business. Never leaves a trace."

James and Aleks look at them, a bit scared, and Gavin laughs at their faces. "Don't worry! Just don't cross us," Gavin takes a sip from a tea cup, resting his arm on the counter. James closes his eyes, now petrified of what their plan with Trevor can bring. Hours being tortured then killed by a professional? Fuck.

James excuses himself and Aleks, mumbling something about changing into normal clothes. Aleks follows James. As they walk farther and farther away from Gavin and Ryan, James begins to whisper nervously. 

"Are you sure this is a good idea? We are already in so much shit and one wrong move can get us killed, Aleks," James quietly says, his voice quivering. Aleks brushes off any doubt with a flick of a hand, stating, "Man, we got this. It's just going to be a small, little bug, behind a painting or something. Super chill and if they find it, blame it on someone else!" James casts his eyes down, thinking over what Aleks said. Maybe he's right, maybe this will help a lot and get us outta here, James thinks. He turns around and enters their room. Aleks follows.

Aleks shut the door and watches James pace around the room, unbuttoning his dress shirt. He takes a breath and says, "Trust me, please." James looks into Aleks' pleading eyes and sighs quietly.

"This better be worth it."

_______

The next day, James entered work, after meeting Trevor behind the bank's building. Trevor handed off some small equipment in a plastic bag, and James felt sorry for the kid, not knowing what he was really getting into. He just looks up to these silly thieves, not truly realizing the extent of their crimes, and how now he is an associate of them. But still, Trevor is helping their cause so James' guilt was pretty much covered for.

"Trevor!" some man exclaims to James, as he waits for the elevator to take him to his boss' floor. The man stood next to him waiting with a mop bucket. He was caught off guard but maintained his sangfroid. "Hello," James stated. Within the next few seconds, James identified him as Joseph, the janitor whom the Fake AH Crew wanted James to befriend and squeeze out information from him. Joseph was a lot smaller in person, wearing a baseball cap indoors and a loose navy blue jumpsuit. Although he was around the same age as James, his smile made him seem much younger. He happily hummed and tapped his foot to the lazy background noise while they were waiting for the elevator door to open. Joseph stared at James, brightly, and bubbled, "Nice day out. Not too hot, which is nice for a summer day in Los Santos." James nods and looks away. 

"Joseph, is it?" 

"Oh, no," the man laughs, much to James confusion, "It's Joe. See?" Joe points to his badge. It clearly prints "JOE" atop the patch. James nods, and Joe pushes, "Why'd you think it was Joseph? If anything, I can be Joey or Joel, Jonah... Josiah!" Joe continues thinking, saying random names and James yawns.

"My man, I stalked you to dig dirt on all employees and your birth certificate said Joseph," James rolls his eyes, trying to shut up this guy. He stops, and looks horrifically, "Really?" James sighs and replies a negative response, although that was quite close to what happened. Joe closes his eyes, his face flushed with relief.

The elevator finally opens, and they both step inside. Joe trails in his mop and bucket, talking about how he just came back from cleaning off a mess from the boss down there. 

"Spilled coffee." James nods, knowing of the boss' fond of coffee already just after the interview. Joe continues, "Coffee makes him horny. He always ends up screwing his secretary." James widens his eyes and stares at Joe. Joe laughs and smiles his genuine bright smile. "It's true!"

"Why are you telling me this? What if I'm some bad guy and will use that information?" James asks, clearly befuddled about the aura of this guy. He seems so open and easy-going, simple and straightforward. At his own expense, not even to his gain. Anyone can manipulate him, James thinks. No wonder FAHC picked him.

Joe shrugs and laughs. He has to be a little high, James thinks. "I just like to talk. You seem nice, even if you are a bad dude. Man, being a janitor for a big place like this, you get into places and learn juicy tidbits." James stares at Joe until he looks back at him. "Here's my floor. Thanks for talking, dude!" The elevator opens up and Joe walks out, holding on to his mop and bucket. James looks at his retreating short figure, being enclosed by the elevator doors. The elevator jumps upward and opens again after a few seconds of silence, the effervescent voice absent. James steps off and meets eyes with his boss, who clasps his hand. 

"Trevor, my boy! Thank you for the coffee. Can you please go downstairs and check on the accountants. They might need printer help. I'll beep you when I need you again," the looming figure says. James would've never noticed before, but the secret glances between the secretary and the big boss became highlighted after the encounter with Joe. James turns around to see the secretary smiling softly. James nods slowly and walks out of the room, after setting down the coffee. He walks right back into the elevator, his head whirring.

He picks the floor where Joe stepped off, trying to contact him again. He steps off the lift and sees Joe, listening to music, mopping up some mess. Joe sees James and waves lightheartedly. Joe takes off his headphones and replies, "Hello again, Trevor!" James gives a small smile and replies, "You're fucking right. They are definitely screwing." Joe cracks a grin and his eyes tell an "I-told-you-so."

James pauses, a moment of silence taking up a few seconds, and asked, "So you know a lot of spicy stuff, huh?" Joe hums and nods, continuing to scrub the tiles. Joe looks up and James stares awkwardly. "I mean, why are you asking?"

He adjusted his tie and replied, "Well, it's a new company. Acquiring as much info as possible seems like a normal thing. Right?" Joe nods again and points to a vent. "See this vent? Leads to the private office of your boss." He squints his eyes and changes his arm position to point across the hall. "The receptionist there? She embezzles a little. Not a lot to ever get noticed, but enough to help her struggling deadbeat husband." 

Joe gives a light laugh at James awe-struck face. James' mind is consumed by only one thought: This guy can give us so much more info than what Geoff's asking for. James puts a hand on Joe's back and James simply put, "Hang out with me after work."

Joe laughs, more ironically at this point, asking, "What are we going to do? Go eat at McDonald's? I can buy you one of those Happy Meals." James immediately remembers him playing as Trevor. It's true, why would this adult want to chill with a minor? A teen, fresh out of middle school? James taps his foot, pondering. He's so tempted to make the same move as Aleks, to recruit Joe in his little team, but in this case, it will have a much better pay off. Joe seems like a nice dude, he will help out a fellow guy in trouble, without anything in return, right? 

But, no. James couldn't risk it, so he says his goodbyes to Joe, who continues to do his job, as James returned to his.


	5. Chapter 5

After his shift, the same routine happened yesterday. Some new guy picked up only James, as Aleks had no business in coming back to the bank. This new guy had a large jaw and thick glasses. James was worried if the guy could see in front of him. Arriving at the gang's house, the man threw his trash on the Fake AH Crew's lawn, laughing as he drives away. Not wanting to be the rear-end of this prank, James picks it up and throws it in a nearby trash can. He walks in, painfully aware of the small contraption hidden in his coat pocket, only protected from the rigid air of some members hanging by a plastic zip-lock bag. James acknowledges all the guys standing about, but keeps salutations quick, and jogs to his and Aleks' room once he's out of sight. 

Opening the door, he's confronted by a sleeping Aleks, who still wearing his shoes. James sighs and sits next to him. He gently shakes the guy, trying to keep a calm aura for Aleks to wake up to. But of course, that didn't work, and James was a little too eager to switch moods and violently rock him. Aleks snaps his eyelids open and starts to yell gibberish. James shuts him up and says quietly, "I got the goods." Aleks squints his eyes and smiles casually while trying to get up. "Hells, yeah, give me some of it, man." James looks confused and replies, "Trevor's stuff."

His face falls after realizing his mistake. James brushes it off and questions, "Now what?" Aleks says, "Geoff isn't here. Let's put it under his door. That way we don't have to go in." 

James and Aleks sneak around the house, quickly locating Geoff's door. Feeling extremely cool, they walk back nonchalantly, taking a detour to hang with the other guys. Gotta have an alibi, in case this does blow up in their face. And, although they were technically keeping them captive, the Fake AH Crew have been making it up in dinner conversations and sliding them extra desserts behind Geoff's backs. Even Geoff was kind of warming up to the two younger kids, going easier on them with training.

After a few talks with the members, they were called for dinner. Jack in the kitchen always was something the boys could happily walk in on. One time, as duties of being the newest incomers, they were washing dishes while Jack was baking brownies for the guys. James asks, curiously, "Why do they impose cooking duties on you? Kind of sexist, right?" Jack smiled politely and answered after thinking a little, "Those good-for-nothing fuckers can't shoot a gun right, how can I make them feed all of us?" They all laughed together, increasing positive vibes, almost filial. 

Sitting at dinner, although near the rear where Gavin and Rimmy Tim sat, was an interesting experience for the two lads. Seeing how, even though these men in their atmosphere have killed and have been shot at, they eat just like any normal human beings? It was awe-filling and left James and Aleks to wonder further about the small aspects of a thug's lifestyle. How do they get groceries, or if they call up friends in the outside world, or even if they have social media pages? 

Whatever the Fake AH Crew was up to, they always had a rigid schedule, at least for the kids, so lights out was stringently set at 9 PM. They were sent to their rooms, but at least they felt full with food and bright with youthfulness.

That type of happy atmosphere shifted drastically when Jack knocked on the door. The door was still locked from the outside, so they could come whenever, but they still mostly were courteous, and knocked until the boys gave a go-ahead at entering. No different this time. Jack entered at the response from Aleks. She slowly walked in, her heels giving a more heavy, ominous clack. The atmosphere got tenuous, the sense of cheerfulness balancing on a fragile tip. She smiles sweetly at the boys, and the guys reply with awkward smiles. Jack holds up a small, black mic and their faces fell, simultaneously. 

"What are these, boys?" Jack asks, rhetorically. They stay quiet and Jack smiles. "Good thing: you're not trying to lie. Smart move."

"We always have done sweeping and perimeter checks every other week for the past couple of years. Geoff changed it to every week since new people in the house could spell out danger. Each Crew member has to check the whole place. Any bugs, any hidden weapons not authorized by Geoff, maybe extra snacks someone is hiding. Although it breaks ideas of trust in this household, it can be argued it keeps us stronger than ever. We got no secrets. Maybe that's what makes us the best damn gang in all of this county.

"Last week was Michael. Y'know, angry guy. Next week was Geoff. You're so damn lucky it was my week. Aren't you?" James and Aleks nod slowly, terrified of what will happen next. She takes a deep breath, and says, "I'm going to discard of this. You are never, ever, going to do anything like this again." With that development in this story, she left as quickly as the surroundings deepened. James and Aleks slowly turn to each other, and James started to freak out. 

"You fuckin'- God, this would've never happened! I knew, I fucking knew... leading that poor kid into this mess was bad. They can easily find out that it was routed or whatever to fuckin' Trevor's room! And then they'll know that we betrayed them... and off with our fuckin' heads!" 

Aleks shakes his head and waves his arms around. He smiles brightly and replies, "They're all stupid, dude." James, dumbfounded, makes a clear "Fuck off, what are you talking about?" face. Aleks clears his throat and continues in a low voice: "They think they got the message to us. Jack thinks, 'No way could these kids make another mistake again!'"

"You're stupid."

"But, it's true! They think we'll stop fucking about but now we meet up with Trevor one more time, and see what to do next." 

"You do it. I'm going to play the role I was given, and if you screw up, I'm saying it's all you. Not saving your ass." 

"Okay, James."

With that, they both went to bed, a bit pissed at each other, but nonetheless, the cogs turning in both their heads, trying to think of something to save, although they won't admit it, the both of themselves.


	6. Chapter 6

A couple days had passed, the duo's relationship not making any progress in a positive direction. James' days dragged on, chatting with Joe, receiving little gossip, but nothing of true value to the Crew, and running around, his loose tie flapping about, following orders by them and them. Aleks' days were filled with boredom, never making an attempt to contact Trevor. Although Aleks did say that he wasn't rattled by the interaction with Jack Patillo, he was pretty damn rattled in James' eyes. James noted the sudden silence owned by Aleks whenever anyone from the crew walked near him, and the downcast eyes when anyone speaks to him, whether hostile or casually. On the other hand, Aleks noted the decreasing personality and bubbliness in James, the whole situation getting to him.

As James stepped into the bank building yet again, merely four days before the planned heist, he heard a whisper, harshly aimed towards his direction. Turning around to face all around him, he makes eye contact with the young fifteen-year-old, who's motioning him to come into an alleyway with him. James looks to see the FAHC vehicle turning around the corner, and he walks, treading very delicately, to Trevor. Trevor's face is slightly flushed as if he was doing the unspeakable. Without any words, he pulled out a laptop from his backpack and opened the screen. Setting it atop one of the trash bins, he looks up to James.

"I was listening to some of their talk, and-" James waves his hands all around. "Talk?" he emphasizes, his eyes questioning. Trevor gives a quizzical look and replies, easily, "You asked me to listen in to the mics I gave you?" 

James shook his head. "What?" James distinctly remembers Aleks saying there's only one. And hiding... only one. James thoughts start to run, thinking of ulterior motives that Aleks has to lie to James. Or how he was just being a dumbass and dropped one in a place the Fake AH Crew never thought to look. The Crew! That means they missed one! Aleks somehow duped actual professional gangsters!

Trevor takes a deep breath and starts to explain, quickly, apparently not wanting to miss his bus back to school. "I gave you two little microphones! Did I grab the wrong person?" Trevor wonders aloud. 

"They were talking about what's yet to come. They... plan on canceling the whole thing. Blow it up, remove all evidence. They keep saying their grand plans keep getting fucked over." Trevor finishes, tired. James digests what Trevor says, who left immediately, yelling about a bus. He ponders more, increased annoyance and frustration marking his forehead. He thinks hard, focusing on the cancellation of the whole thing. Why the fuck he and Aleks were here then? Why did they subject themselves to mind-numbing hours of emotional abuse and relentless training? Why did they leave their lives, completely against their will, only giving in because Geoff Lazer Ramsey threatened murder? James fumed. He stood there and only snapped out of his wild imaginations when his buzzer beeped, most likely, well, of course, the boss asking for some coffee. James shakes his head, and turns away comically, running across the street, dodging honking cars, and finally entering the building with a determined face. The next few hours, his eyes were barely open but his mind was whirring.

Meanwhile, Aleks sat at the house again, debating whether to call up someone. If it were up to him, he would call James, asking him about his day, and then cutting him off to talk about how he won another round in some shooter game. But, the Crew confiscated every mean of communication for the boys, leaving them with untraceable, homemade trinkets that they were sure it would shock them if they put it up too close to their head.

The phone was in the living room, but no one was home. Of course, there were people home, because Geoff didn't trust the boys quite yet, even with the fact that James and Aleks trying to fuck him over flew right over his head. Jack truly did keep quiet about it. Aleks is secretly grateful but pretty shaken up. He thought he hid that one pretty well. They found the one under the door but not the one in the heisting room? Well, Aleks smiles lightly to himself, I did hide it pretty damn well. In the gum, stick it under the desk. No one wants to touch it and no one wants to admit it was them. Aleks smiles again, stretching in the chair. The Golden One, with gold piercings and golden chains all over, Gavin, is kind of decent and leaves the door open before he goes cruising with his boy, doing petty crimes, in the morning. Aleks escapes to the living room, watchin ' television, and notices the phone every day. He finally walks over to it, and his eyes roll, signifying an 'ah, fuck it,' and picking up the phone. He dials Trevor's phone, memorizing the digits he gave the first day they met, scribbled on a piece of paper. What else could he do? One of the "baby sitters" meant for watching Aleks give him a glance but doesn't bother to decline him access to the phone. This gang has been known to help out the FAHC, but they weren't nearly as hardcore. Some might even say they work for the better of causes. There were two people, one, a young blonde woman, bearing a small tattoo of the Canadian flag on the back of her wrist, and two, an older man, with a clean-shaven face but thick eyebrows and thick glasses.

The phone just goes to the machine, Aleks cursing the young boy, being a baby in school. Aleks thinks a little, which is hardly the norm, and his mind drifts to when he got a letter of acceptance to one of the colleges, run-down, but great for graphic design. A vestige of his previous happiness in a different life before appears on his face. He remembers James' shock but genuine happiness for him, and his own confidence growing. But whatever, Aleks thinks. He sits back down and stares at his pocket, the bump of the homemade phone sending mental signals to use it. Aleks warily slides it out of his pocket and holds it gently. He plays around with it, to which he hears a high, clear voice: "Ah, Geoff issued you those awful things?" The Canadian one looks quizzically, a natural smile curling her lips upwards. Aleks nods and replies, "Fuckin' awful, indeed."

She flashes a grin and asks, "What's your name? All the guy said was a troublemaker we needed to watch out for." The man next to her whispers something, his eyebrows arching negatively, and the woman shushes him with a negligent wave of the hand. Aleks watches the encounter, pauses, and continues. "It's Aleks. Say, do you know how to work this thing without it electrocuting you?" 

The man snickers at his last comment and answered, "It looks bad, but you can trust them. Just pull out the antennae and dial 723 before each number." Aleks thanks the man, but still looks at the hunk of junk confused. He doesn't see a fucking number pad. Because his face is marked with desperation, the man comes up to him and guides him through it. Aleks thanks him, deeply, exchanging smiles and all. He goes back to his room, leaving the members of the Little Roosters to themselves again. 

Aleks opens the door, which immediately closes and locks itself in. Aleks has become accustomed to it and flopped onto the bed. He dug up a piece of paper where Jack scribbled hastily some numbers of all the members and included his number along with James'. Aleks dials him up, almost embarrassed by breaking the silence between the two and taking the first step to reconciliation.

After a few clicks, there was a noise of shuffling, various white noises all combined to make the static on the line unbearable. Aleks moves the phone away from his ear, then faintly hears words. James answers, whispering breathlessly, "Hello?" Aleks pumps his fist into the air and replied much more enthusiastically, "Hello, my James!"

James pauses and Aleks is half-expecting another click, but instead, James replies, "I think I have a plan. But first, what the fuck, dude!" Aleks squints his eyes and asks, "What up, man?"

"Why didn't you tell me about the second mic!" 

"How'd you find out?"

"Trevor pulled me aside earlier today and told me the guys are planning to cancel this whole setup. Because we have no intel!" James remarks angrily. On his side, a door opens and the white noise is back. A deep voice instructs James to go downstairs and do some errand. The sounds of steps echoes and James breaths are audible again. 

Aleks continues. "I didn't want you to be at risk. I just put all the pressure on me. Y'know, I don't mind rationalizing but you like to blow things out of proportions."

"How dare you accuse me of blowing things!?" James lightly chuckles and Aleks joins in. They both remain quiet after that, their broken friendship healing itself. 

"Like, when I set fire on Fourth of July. It was a small patch of dry grass," Aleks reminisces. He can hear James rolling his eyes. James replies quietly, each word growing louder, "I had to bring around the hose from the backyard! You burned my new shoes!" Aleks laughs again, but James was much less giggly than before. Still, they rested comfortably on their end to that conversation. James picks it up again, startling Aleks, "I have a plan. I'm going to get all the intel we need, but I need some more time. Make up some excuse to the Fakers or something- don’t make it too obvious that you’re lying."

“Just a little obvious.”

“No!”

Aleks stops and thinks. “Don’t worry, dude, just do your thing. I think some people from Little Roosters are coming to pick you up. But I befriended them; they are a lot nicer than anyone else!”

"Don't mention the shirtless guy. Greg, right?" 

"Yeah. Miller. Real weird. But hey, I'll convince them to let me come pick you up so we don’t have to worry about being late. I can say I know exactly where you are."

“I’ll get to work.”

"Sounds damn good. See you." Aleks hangs up first, happy with the outcome. Meanwhile, James stares at the phone, almost shocked that Aleks hung up on him.

With that exchange, James simply awaited for the shift to end so he could meet up with Joe. As James walked over to where Joe typically would be, mopping up the spilled coffees from people trying to rush home after their shifts by the exit, Aleks and Trevor made their way to a different rendezvous where they were to make new plans for this whole ordeal. They butted heads and joked about the few days they've known each other, talking as if they've been friends for much longer. Trevor, although a few years younger than Aleks, was pretty much bigger in every respect. 

After James caught up with him, Joe turns around at the sound of dying breaths. "What's up, Trevor?" he asks. James was caught off-guard but swiftly recovered. He looks straight ahead, although he is bending down in pain and sees Joe's smiling face. James smiles at the absurd height difference and shakes his head.

"Sorry, Joe, to bother you. I left my keys in the conference room by Mr. Burns’ office, upstairs. Can you open it for me?" Joe smiles and replies without missing a beat, "Absolutely!"

Joe starts to head over to the elevator, but before he makes it, his eyes centered on James' ironed slacks. "Isn't that your lanyard right there?" James opens his mouth to answer, and pauses. "It's the office keys. I left my personal keys up there. Sorry about that." 

Joe signals James to follow him, believing his shit lie. James mentally sighed in relief. James entered the elevator right behind Joe, the two men silently waiting behind the closing doors, the chiming of the elevators reverberating in his' ears. 

The lift opens up, revealing the dark hallway of the main CEO hall. The secretary desk is empty, the rooms locked. Everyone headed home for the day, as the higher position holders have the privilege of being able to go home at a decent time, leaving the busy workers like Joe staying up until eight or nine. Joe whistles as he pulls his keys out, fumbling in the dark to insert the key into the knob. James watches him, wondering if it'll be easier to just knock him out and take his keys. He refrains himself from being stupid and jeopardizing everything and steps back. Joe opens the door, and James walks in. He looks around, trying to make it seem like he's looking around. He needs to make up an excuse to get Joe out of there.

"Hey man, thanks, but I think it'll be a while. I'm always misplacing things!" James playfully hits his own head, while Joe looks unamused. "No worries, I'll stay." James turns around and tries to think of another way. He walks slowly, around the table, his eyes fixed on his boss' door. Something! 

After a while, six o'clock rolls around and the two boys nonchalantly rolls along also, Aleks and Trevor, bound by twenty minutes without FAHC supervision. A destructive force to be reckoned with. They walk into the building, expecting James to be there, visible so they can head up together, but James is nowhere to be seen. Trevor sees Aleks' hesitation and asks, "What's wrong?"

"James isn't here." Aleks scans the room, hoping for the best. Nothing too bad could've happened, right? Wouldn’t he have been done by now? Did he wait until just now to make his move? Trevor nods silently and staggers a few steps behind Aleks, watching his back. Aleks catches the eye of a young intern, who questions him about his entrance. He gives a casual smile and immediately gets into the character of a confused guy, looking for his friend. "His name is Trevor Schmitdy? We were gonna go out for a movie, but I guess he's being a busy bee." The secretary gives a flirtatious laugh, her eyes twinkling. The real Trevor watches in awe at the magic Aleks is working up. The secretary laughs at whatever Aleks is continuing, giving off playful vibes, which Trevor believes he's just showing off now. The secretary finally looks up Trevor, seeing to where his key card was last swiped. "It says he's fifteen??? And you're his friend...?" Aleks' eyes blank and he gives another smile. "Ah. Yes, I guess you can say that. I mean, it's a weird relationship, although I'm much older, I swear-" 

The secretary gives a hard stare and returns to her bored state. "He's up on the CEO floor. I'll have someone get you there." She turns back to her work, and Aleks sighs, knocking on the desk as he purses his lips. He turns around, as Trevor holds in giggles. "Shut the fuck up," Aleks gruffly mumbles. 

They do get buzzed in, ascending in an elevator, accompanied by one of the numerous night staff. They step off, leaving the woman alone to go back down. They walk towards the only room with light illuminating from it. James turns around to see Aleks and Trevor entering through the door, startling Joe, who was surfing his phone. James motions them to come over to him, Aleks already noticing fire in his eyes. "What the fuck are you guys doing here?" James harshly whispers. "Where were you?" Aleks responds, equally harshly. Trevor watches the quiet exchange, also glancing back at Joe, who's staring intently, wondering what's going on. James also catches on to Joe's confusion and shuts Aleks up. 

"Sorry, Joe. Here are my two friends, Aleks and, er- James." Introductions are exchanged, 'James' and Aleks seeming nothing more than to simply check out their friend's new job. As Aleks asks more about Joe, James has an idea. 

"Joe, I think my keys might be in the boss' room. I had to drop off coffee, and it might've dropped." Joe gives a skeptical look, and James pleads, "It's the only place I've been to that I haven't looked thoroughly." 

Joe walks over to the door, grudgingly, and unlocks it. Alarms don't go off, much to James thankfulness. He walks in, excited, and looks back at Aleks. Aleks winks, and turns to Joe, striking up a conversation. Joe tries to keep an eye on James, but his extroverted complex gets sidetracked and goes full out with focusing on Aleks. Trevor slyly comes in too, handing his own keys that involve his bike lock and his house to James, who looks gratefully in return. 

James pats his pockets, finding a thin tub of clay he quickly bought at a local hardware store during his break. He snatched the set of keys, hanging freely on a board, decorated with various flyers for events throughout the city and a few bars. James nods to himself, sure he can find a strip club ad somewhere here but he simply doesn’t have the time. He gently presses the main key right onto the clay, getting a perfect casting of it. He takes a deep breath, then holds. He holds it as he wiggles the key out of the clay, trying to maintain its impression. Sweat beads on his forehead, as the blood pounds in his veins. This cannot mess up as he does not have another shot at this. The key flicks out with a satisfying sound, leaving James to hang up the key, the metal glinting in the dusk light escaping through the closed blinds. He glances back at Joe and the others, hoping to God that he’s still clear to do one more thing. He meets eyes with Aleks, who gives a small smirk. He goes back to displaying something on his phone, causing Joe to laugh out loud. Gotta be some of his original memes. 

James slowly crouches down, hidden behind the prominent mahogany desk, slowly feeling for the drawers’ handles on either side of it. He finds the middle left one, knowing this is the one with the ledger for his boss’ appointments and other engagements. If he can get a copy of this, he can find a time to use the copy of the key to get in and retrieve more data. This is just the surface of the intel that can be gathered in this small room. James ends up snapping a few pics of the names written down, sided by times of when his boss will be gone, the room unsupervised. James quickly shoves it back in the desk, gets up, brushes his knees, then hides a big grin behind his hand.

He smiles widely and exits the room, proudly displaying Trevor's keys. Joe takes it as he founds his own keys when actually James' radiating satisfaction is from not dying at the hands of a gang. Aleks returns the smile, Trevor equally happy with his contribution. 

Joe steps forwards and locks the main door. He walks towards to the end of the conference room, and hang by the door. With his back still turned, he states, "There's cameras all over this place. I'm not sure if I should consider you all stupid for thinking you won't get caught, or for thinking I wouldn't notice."

A loud thud can be symbolically heard, as each heart drops in all three of the boys' chests. Joe's smirk can be heard as well, revealing the coy smile as he turns around. Aleks starts stuttering as Trevor and James remain quiet. "Ya got it wrong, dude."

"Right. Well, you guys seem alright. But, with that CCTV, you'll be fucked." James snorts. How ironic, getting on national news by CCTV, now getting pounded by yet again, CCTV.

Aleks purses his lips, rubbing his chin. "Can you keep quiet about this, Joe?"

"Y'know, lucky for you, the janitor has many advantages. Able to edit certain video capture is one of them." Joe smiles. Yet something more sinister glazes underneath his shiny eyes. 

"Of course, all goods and services are exchanged for..." Joe trails off, gesturing for them to continue. "Something of equal value," Trevor completes. Although Joe is the shortest one, his presence surmounts every other being in the room. All eyes are on him, and he's making the most out of the spotlight. Walking around the room, he raises the question: "So, how much is an out-of-jail card worth?"

They continue their silence. Joe stops and curtly replies to his own question, "Thirty."

Aleks laughs and says, "I mean, a little more!" Joe laughs with him and finishes, "Thousand." James looks over to Aleks and gives him a blank stare. "You didn't expect that? You're such a fucking idiot." 

"At least I didn't get us here!" Aleks snaps back. Aleks turns to Joe and desperately blurted out, "We don't have that kinda money."

"Taking copies of my boss' boss' boss locks must mean you have an idea. And I want in." James and Aleks exchange looks. They make a decision solely on their glances at each other, but Trevor interrupts them. "Guys, it's six-fifteen. You guys need to go."

"I'll be expecting thirty grand no matter what," Joe states as Aleks and James grab their stuff and harshly walks out the room. Trevor timidly follows them. The three step into the lift and start to descend. Aleks, no more than a defeated whisper, "Fuck."


	7. Chapter 7

The boys eat quietly, seated next to national outlaws. They laugh loudly about trivial pursuits of random fortunes they participated in today. James squirms in his seat at the closeness of everyone. Except for himself and Aleks. They were outsiders, looking into a world they never knew existed. A place where hardened killers eat together a home-cooked meal and reminisce about their day?

"Excuse me," James interrupts. Everyone stops everything, even their chewing, to turn to look at the previously quiet young man. He takes a deep breath, ready to convey his feats of the day, but Aleks butts in. "We got some copies of the CEO's office locks. And we got pictures of his schedule for when he’s out. Is this what you were lookin' for?" Aleks fishes out the clay molds and pictures James took. Trevor, being very useful throughout the day, was able to print out all of them. Geoff looked over at the copies, handing them silently for Gavin to look at. The lad studied them and smiled widely, "This is perfect."

Geoff clasps his hands together. "Wonderful work, you guys!" He smiles brightly, his kind words mimicking those of a proud dad. James and Aleks give an awkward smile, not used to this praise of the Fake AH Crew. They talked over one another, discussing the plans, excitement oozing out at this chance to heist. Aleks winks at James, who simply shakes his head. The Crew all gave slaps on the backs and a disheveling of hair to the boys, expressing how they saved the heist. James and Aleks both thanked Trevor for letting them be able to complete that mission in the first place. Without that crucial piece, James and Aleks would’ve been deemed useless- ultimately being thrown away.

All the gang members leave the table, leaving the duo alone to finish their untouched meal. As they enter their own private headquarters, Geoff peaks out the door. 

"Good work, you guys. I might just allow you guys to go out tomorrow." James’ eyes widen and Aleks gapes his mouth. Geoff replies, "James, no more work, just drop off it. You're allowed out from ten AM to noon." He enters the room again, the door closing with a loud thud, and the locks clicking in place. James turns to Aleks and giggles. Aleks thanks the heavens, looking up towards the skies. 

Playing together, shoving each others' shoulders, and stepping on the backs of their heels, the duo happily walks back to their rooms, glowing. As they get in, and the door automatically locking, Aleks jumps on the bed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm fucking happy, dude. Lemme be," Aleks rebuttals, a beat in his voice. He collapses onto the bed, crossing his arms behind his head, resting, staring at the cold ceiling. They finally got a chance to get out of the house, away from those cold rooms and wooden floorboards. James follows, flopping onto his own bed, humming. James turns to look at Aleks.

"We don't talk about this," he says, his eyes cast above Aleks' head. He turns too, lying on his side to see James. "Well, what is there to say?"

"You think anyone noticed we're missing?" Aleks thinks aloud. They were both living together in a shabby apartment, in the poorer parts of the city, the parts where the government overlooked and assumed everything was alright over there. Aleks, having hardships endeavoring to find a foster family in his childhood as he moved from Russia to Los Santos, met with James in middle school. They've been partners-in-crimes ever since, Aleks always able to find refuge in the Wilson household when dropped on and off again by negligent foster families. Once James turned eighteen, kicked out by the Wilson parents to find his own place, James and Aleks went out to conquer the world... at various Craigslist jobs and working in retail. They went weeks without contacting the Wilsons, so it wouldn't be unusual for James and Aleks to seem to have disappeared. 

He finally replied, "When we get back, no one would even know. Life will resume as normal." Aleks said this confidently, raising confusion in James.

"You think we're getting out of here?" 

"Why not? We've helped them out, got them a plan to steal millions. They have to give us our lives back eventually."

James snaps his fingers, retorting, "That's the thing: eventually. We get 'em millions of dollars, 'Oh, stay for one more heist.'" He turns to lie on his back again, staring at the ceiling again. Aleks ponders this and sighs, annoyed. James was right; he was naive to think that the Fake AH Crew would let them go. But, he thinks, it's nice to be hopeful. As he makes this conclusion, he reaches over and turns off the lamp, surrounding the two in darkness.

Although James was hesitant to sleep, Aleks started snoring within minutes. His breathing slowed down, becoming in sync with the ticking of the clock situated above the locked door. James found the white noise in the background, the ticking of the clock, the soft snores, the distant voices of the Crew... He slowly drifted away, eyelids fluttering closed. The fatigue hit him hard, and he succumbed to sleep.

James startled awake, the sunlight peeking out of the window, high up near the edge of the room. The sun rose to the right position where the light hits James' eyes. He looks around, seeing an empty bed. He jolts up, worried about Geoff finding out about owing Joe money. Before James could call out Aleks' name in concern, Aleks pops out of the bathroom, still fluffing up his bright hair. He stares at James, continuing to pick at this and that, fixing his face and pulling up his pants. Aleks finally retaliates with, "What the fuck you looking at, dude?'

James stares, but unable to hold it in, snorts. He bursts out into a giggling fit, Aleks hesitantly laughing along. Aleks claps his hands together and urges James to get out of bed. "Get in the shower, dude, we got an appointment." 

He looks, confusion written on his face, at Aleks, who stands there, exerting something... Wit? Pride? Assurance? James can't make up what Aleks is thinking. "What appointment?"

Aleks just winks as he slides on a leather jacket. James gives him a once-over. He really changed throughout this experience. Well, who wouldn't right? James thinks to himself, as he gets up. He continues to reflect upon everything. Always having sweaty palms and looking twice over the shoulder. Those were the highlights of his life right now. Maybe because he had the more intense jobs, of actually going incognito, lying to actual people about who he was. Aleks, staying at the house, had all the time in the world to upgrade his shitty wardrobe from tight tees and sweatpants to denim, sunglasses, and leather. His shoes were even looking spiffy, James angrily huffs. 

All the meanwhile, Aleks was whistling to himself, thinking about how he's gonna go all in for croissants and coffee. He planned this whole thing, and damn, it was gonna go fuckin' perfect. Aleks rubs his hands together, fluffing up his hair a little more, and tugging on his jacket. The AH wardrobe was pretty full of random articles of clothing. Aleks stops and considers the notion that these clothes were from victims; he's wearing dead people. Aleks smirks at the mirror, giving a cheeky grin to himself, forgetting his previous thoughts. Time to reign like hell.

Once James got ready himself, sporting a shirt with a small band's logo, a pair of jeans, and some skater kicks, the duo sets off to find Geoff and take their, although short, leave. Geoff looks in surprise but remembers guiltily about his proposal of free time for the boys after his tipsy night. Geoff lets them off with several warnings, saying the basic stuff that if they skip town or kill themselves, Geoff will find a way to release fire and fury onto them. With that, the boys set off to a small cafe, in the rich part of town, a place they were never able to even afford to walk in. When James confronted Aleks about this specific choice in scenery, Aleks replied with a decent answer: Neighbors and friends of them wouldn't ever be found here, thus they won't have to worry about meeting a familiar face. 

They enter in the backseats of one of the cars, as one of the younger members takes the front seat. He looks different, possibly only seen by the boys a couple times during heist debriefs. His jet black hair and thick eyebrows make an impression on James and Aleks.

"Call me Treyco." He smiles, his white teeth radiating off the rearview mirror. James gives an awkward greeting and Aleks stares. Treyco drives them to their destination, Aleks giving an address a bit farther away from the cafe. James concludes it's so the FAHC doesn't know exactly where they are. Sometimes, Aleks can be clever, he thinks, glancing at his partner. James patted his shoulders, proud of him for making a smart decision. Aleks pushes him away, muttering about the age difference not meaning James has to coddle him. All the while, he just did it because he likes to walk with James.

They exit out of the vehicle, thanking their one-time chauffeur and start walking. They cut into an alleyway, revealing a whole street of small shops and businesses scattered in a variety across the road. Aleks presses the button to signal for pedestrians, James following right behind him. James studies his younger friend, who catches sight of an elderly woman struggling to hold her groceries. Aleks gives a charming smile, the woman lifting her eyebrows in surprise and thankfulness, gushing about the youth of this town being so vibrant and thoughtful. As Aleks escorts the woman to cross the road and helps unload her bags into her car, James notices a familiar face, against Aleks' claims. The real Trevor Schmidty motherfucking II. James storms over and enters the gate for the outdoor cafe area. He plops right down in Trevor's table, startling him to spill his drink on himself. 

"Fuck, dude... These were new shoes..." Trevor sighs, dejectedly, moving to showcase his white shoes with blotches of coffee tan on them. He closes his eyes and stares straight at James. "What, man?"

"What the fuck, dude? Why are you here?"

Trevor looks around, grateful for the lack of people to overhear any of this. He looks back at James and gives a quizzical look. "Didn't Aleks tell you?"

The man of the hour shows up, sitting next to James and tuning into the conversation. "Somebody said my name," he adds in a sing-song voice. James looks over to Aleks, then back to Trevor, sending signals to Aleks. He leans on the table, peering on the suspended menu hanging on a prop in the middle of the table. Hell yeah, he thinks, they got some croissants.

He snaps back into reality when confronted with James' hand, waving violently in front of his face. He remembers what's going on, and hunches over while giving an awful smile.

"So boys, we gonna get rich," he announces, nodding his head slowly. Before James replies, Aleks gets up and goes over to the barista. James gruffly follows, leaving Trevor alone. He looks around, and slings his backpack across his shoulder and follows his new friends. He catches up to them, catching Aleks giving his order. James punches his arm lightly, demanding why Aleks' is buying a dozen croissants. Trevor smiles. 

"Hey. You look familiar," James says to the barista, who jots down his name on a cup after he orders a milkshake. The barista looks up at him through his thick glasses, clearly unamused with what he thinks is a gag the two are trying to pull. Aleks glances at his name tag. "Aron..." He looks over to James, who makes the same thinking face. They shake it off, giving the overused excuse of 'someone that I used to know.' 

After Aron hands them their drinks and a pink box, filled with almond croissants, Aleks finally starts answering James' questions. As Aleks gives his background, all James can think is how Aleks is real immature but does have good intentions. He continues to sip his milkshake, studying Aleks. James laughs at him, as a fly lands directly on his head. Aleks swats it away, angry at James' lack of attentiveness. "Can we just get this done? I wanna go home," Trevor lazily drawls, stirring his new cup of coffee. James still hasn't apologized.

"Listen. Trevor, take out your computer and work that magic," Aleks replies, licking his lips dramatically. 

"Ew, dude. Okay, take a listen to this," Trevor states in a monotone, handing one earbud each to the lads. They hear static but distant words can be made out. Trevor watches excitedly the faces of the lads, who get more and more into the dialogue with each second that goes by. Trevor pauses it, stunning the lads. He crosses his arms and tips back, giving an expression of confidence, but starts to flail around as he almost falls flat on his back. As James rolls his eyes, Aleks continues on.

"This can be it. We Just make minor changes, flip it, frost it, voila."

"What is this? We can't do fucking shit with this!" James yells, exasperated. Receiving a few glares from families walking around, James quiets down. "We will fucking die."

Trevor shrugs and replies, "I won't be in danger. I'm cool with whatever." Aleks gives him the look of omnipotence and replies, "If we do get caught, not saying we will, but if we do, we are gonna take you down with us." Trevor pauses and hangs his head down. 

"This is risking everything. Everything."

"I don't think we have a choice. I was thinking last night, about what you said. Remember?"

James stops and thinks. He opens his mouth to repeat the words from yesterday, but Aleks beats him to it. "'The Fake AH Crew will not let us go, no matter what happens.' It's just how it's gonna be. And you know what? We gotta do something," Aleks implores. Trevor stares at James, as he already made up his mind. James looks at the two back and forth, running over different options for this. They could, but... it seems unlikely. The most notorious gang in the city of crime. 

He looks at Aleks and smiles widely. "We won't only survive... We'll fucking thrive! Let's settle this."

Trevor puts his hand out in the middle of the table, prompting the others to look at him quizzically. "C'mon, guys, let's break together. Three, two, one, friendship!"

"Fuck off, Tre-vor," James retorts, turning back to Aleks. He cocks his head and looks at the both of them, something different from the past few days glowing in his eyes.

"Let's screw over the Fake AH Crew."


	8. Chapter 8

The van is heavy with people, weapons, and tension. They have been driving tediously to avoid attention from the cops, driving safely and following traffic lights and signals, completely different than what they were used to. This had to be perfect. No mistakes could be made. 

The van slowly screeched to a halt in an alleyway next to the bank they had their part-time rookie infiltrate and collect intel. Every single person breathed in sync, taking in as much air they can. They give silent stares to each other before someone cracks the deafening silence.

"Gah, I can't take this!" Gavin chuckles, nervously, crossing his arms and kicking his legs around. Michael, sitting next to the Golden Boy, sighs and replies, "Dude, none of us can. This is big. We probably are gonna get bipped at last." He fake-tearfully wipes his eyes, clearly making fun of Gavin. He can’t tell, showcased as he reaches over to squeeze Michael’s cheeks in affection and reassurance. Michael then smacks Gav’s chest. “Shut the fuck up, I was joking, dickwad. We got this.” Miss Jack sitting across from them looks over to the driver, done with the lads being childish. She asks. "When do we get on with this, Lindsay?'

The red-haired assistant scans the tablet in front of her, shaking her head. "It's a no-go right now, but soon, I'll let you know when it's clear." Jack sighs, turning to see Geoff. He rubs his tired eyes, his tattooed hand slightly shaking. Either from anxiety or excitement. He has been planning this heist for a while now. The Fake AH Crew was never in need of money, but goddamn, they were in need of some sort of publicity. They had it in their fingertips with blowing up a fucking gas station, which was entirely a mistake on Gavin's part, but still, it generated buzz. Buzz. Something the FAHC hasn't seen in a while regarding them. Sure, they were one of the first of Los Santos gangs, but the crews keep getting younger and insane. For example, those two teenagers. Geoff sighs, thinking about those boys. Actually yanking out all coverage of the Fake AH Crew? And not even meaning it? How? He shook his head, trying to get rid of those angry thoughts. He forgave them when they allowed this mission to take place with James' actions to get the key for Michael and Rimmy to sneak in and get a shit ton of files on everything. They got files on every major client, where they keep their money within the bank, which ones had the most cash, the fucking blueprints to the whole building, to know exactly which paths to take to get there the easiest. Geoff was fucking teeming with gaiety. 

Lindsay turns around, interrupting Geoff's thoughts. Her blue eyes are wide with thrill. "It's clear."

With those words, the lads kick the van doors open, jumping out and hustling towards the alleyway door. Jack, Ryan, and Geoff follow, more cautiously and keeping an eye out for anyone. Rimmy takes a step forward, putting on a gas mask. Gavin and Michael take their cues and put on their helmets, following suit are the Gents and Jack. They hunch, screening their surroundings, not gathering any attention thus far. Rimmy takes out his backpack, opening it to reveal a few sticky bombs. He grabs one and places it right on the door. He signals everyone to run after him, pressing the detonate button when everyone is in the clear. A riveting noise reverberates between the close walls of the alleyway they're standing in. The sound bounces back to the public, walking for their own reasons on the sidewalk, triggering screaming and running around. A few spot the Crew and take out their phones, to record or to call the police, Michael isn't sure. All he knows is to fucking book it, running into the building before the smoke has a chance to clear up. Rimmy runs up the stairs, knocking out various security guards, stunned and confused at not only his awkward clothing choices but the random attack on this business. He creates a way for Ryan to follow, who's holding a large briefcase. He's in charge of hacking the different safes, being the most experienced in theft. Rimmy continues to knock out security guards, Ryan following close behind. 

As soon as they are safe and out of sight, Geoff and Jack hustle together to the front of the building, yelling orders at each customer to get on the ground. Everyone complies, earnestly, frightened to get shot on what they thought to be a normal Tuesday night. Gavin and Michael follow the pair, staying in the main lobby as Jack and Geoff take their leave to the front of the building. Stacked with the most armor, Geoff and Jack are in charge of annihilating anyone in their way. By this time, dozens of cars showed up, but immediately being bipped by the duo, shooting nonstop. They looked at each other, and smiled through their helmets, once again feeling the rush and high of raising hell.

Meanwhile Jack and Geoff were stopping anyone entering the bank and Rimmy and Ryan were off collecting as much shit they can, Michael and Gavin were raising intimidation, yelling and screaming, shooting random areas to scare each person. One tried to book it, running towards the bathroom, but Gavin blew his head in. Michael rolled his eyes towards the man, who shrugged his shoulders, sheepishly, while fright increased dramatically in the crowd of innocents with the dead body, leaving a heavy stench of blood in the air. 

These stunts went on for a while, helicopters hovering above the building, but being immediately shot down by the Fake AH Crew. By this time, dozens of news reporters were found a few hundred feet away, shooting live coverage of everything. Geoff left them alone, smiling and waving hello at the camera now and then, leaving chills with every Los Santos citizen viewing these channels. Ryan managed to hack into most electronic safes, while Rimmy blew up the rest. Millions of dollars in diamonds, cash, and damage stalked the Crew, leaving trails of money when they ran from room to room. Rimmy and Ryan found their last room. They ran in, locking the door. Rimmy knelt by the entrance, grabbing a kit of tools. He throws a screwdriver to the Vagabond, taking it silently. He bends down to a vent on the opposite side, which led to the connected building, a basic shopping center. Rimmy then threw a satellite phone to Ryan, who grabbed it easily. He pulled up the antenna and dialed Gavin's number. He waited with sangfroid, his forehead glistening with the face paint mixed with sweat, but nonetheless with a normal heart rate. On the other hand, Rimmy paced up and down the room, wincing at the loud gunfire and blood-curdling screams. 

Gavin finally picked up the phone, Ryan waiting silently. Gavin asks, "Is it time?"

Ryan continues with the silence. Gavin clicks off, signaling Ryan to flip up the AC frame and shove the bags down the vent. Rimmy aids Ryan, shoving three or four bags before Ryan closing the vent. He gets up, silently, and Rimmy nods to him. As predicted, Gavin alerted the others that Ryan called. Geoff and Jack left the front, Michael and Gavin going to their own destinations. The SWAT team at this time entered the building, with no cover from the FAHC to stop them from coming in. They instantaneously went to the floor they were currently in, commanding the Battle Buddies to exit the room. Rimmy planted some sticky bombs on the far left side of the room, blowing it up as soon as they were safe. They hurled themselves into the hole, right before the guards and cops busted in, looking anxious at what the men just did. Rimmy and Ryan fell down, down, down, Rimmy emitting loud screams, only being echoed by the close space. He looked up, seeing various heads poking out of the hole he just blew up, enraged, spewing curses. 

Ryan swiftly catches the pole holding up the elevator, trying to stop the momentum with his leather boots. Rimmy frantically does the same, barely making it. They have a smooth landing, just before they get rained with bullets from above. Ryan readjusts his helmet, still feeling the impact of the bullets but still going at it strong. He takes a crowbar and forces the doors in front of them to open, revealing the wing of all the offices. He and Rimmy run through it, various thoughts running through each of their minds. By now, Ryan was even getting a bit light-headed. 

Meanwhile, as soon as Gavin got the call from Ryan, he and Michael waited, not so patiently, as the items dropped. One by one, the bags tumbled down the vents, each bag rolling down speeding up their heart rate. As soon as they hit four bags, Gavin squealed, “Book it, boy!” Michael kicked open the door, greeted by heavily-armed men, stacked with bullet-proof gear. Gavin pitches some smoke grenades, filling the room with hazardous gas at once. Coughing spurred, fleetingly inhibiting the officers who weren’t prepared for these kinds of weapons. Gavin and Michael run through the thick smoke, their bodies thoroughly hidden by the noxious fumes, Gavin desperately clutching the bags as Michael protects him from flying bullets.

They find their way out of the labyrinth that is the interior of the bank, finally making their way back to where they started out. Finding the staircase they entered in, they see the exit. With not a moment to lose, the duo sprints to the door they blew up before all this began, and fuckin' went full-on to the van, where everyone was out shooting each person. Gavin yelps, getting shot through the armor in his shoulder, their protection wearing thin after being pelted. Michael urges his partner to get in the van, pushing him to the side and forcing him in. Jack shakes her head and screams, "There's too many now! Let's fucking go!"

Everyone listens and hops into the back of the van, the tires screeching. They drive straight forward, hitting a few cars and cops, feeling the bumps of rolling over bodies, giving the lads chills. The Fake AH Crew, barely staying stable in their spots, scream directions to Lindsay, who's taking it cool and driving smart, taking rural cuts and smaller roads. Cops follow close behind. Geoff gets up, kicks open the door and grabs onto the roof of the van, steadying himself, ushering protests from everyone in the vehicle. The van’s back doors swing open, flapping about as the van accelerates hundreds of miles per hour. He begins shooting at the cars, Michael getting up angrily and following in Geoff's idea, although it was incredibly stupid and dangerous. Gavin presses his shoulder as Rimmy Tim helps bandage him, who winces at the sight of blood. This was his first few years, but he still hasn't acclimated to the sight of these gruesome scenes. Jack takes out her computer and helps Lindsay with directions, losing more and more cops by the minute. The gunshots become less frequent, less loud, the atmosphere hitching down slowly but surely.

Jack sighs, reassured that they are safe now. As Lindsay slows down driving, Geoff lets go, staring out into the distance. In the scene, you can see flashing blue and red, the distant sounds of ambulances and firetrucks going off. Geoff holds onto the inside of the back of the van while leaning out of the vehicle to pull the doors shut. With the sound of the slam of the car doors, the Crew partakes in a few seconds of silence. Then, the eruption of laughter, whooping, and screams of joy come, mimicking their previous heist. Gavin proudly displays the multiple duffel bags, earning more hoorays and shouts of joy. 

“Fellow Fakers! We’re rich!” Gav ecstatically hoots, pumping his fist in the air, followed suit by louder cheers. Michael wraps his arm around his buddy, drunk off of this achievement. “Whatcha waiting for, kid? Open it!”

Gavin hurriedly and enthusiastically opens up the bag, his hands trembling at showcasing his work done today. He proudly thinks how all this money? All available to the Crew because of him grabbing it. He bends down, opening up the duffel.

“Gav?” Michael comments as he sees Gavin pause, staring at the inside of the bag. He blinks a few times, then looks up. His eyelids droop down as he slumps over, completely fainted. Michael shoves him off the bag, everyone crowding around to see what the commotion was all about.

The Vagabond simply said, “Shit.”

Get Chopped, cunts, lone on a sticky note, surrounded by a blanket riddled with cow spots. The gang turned to see a lax Geoff, a smile peeking through layers and layers of hardness.


	9. Bonus Chapter

Rewinding all the way back to the little get-together involving the two boys and Trevor, Aleks takes a deep breath, his eyes shining. James looks uncertainly towards the small group, lost in thought about what this means for them. Trevor simply stares at the croissants, eager for Aleks to give to okay to go ahead and scarf them all down. 

“This can really work huh?”

“Check it. I printed out the script and everything.” Trevor digs into his small backpack, eyes squinted, blindly smacking his hand around the interior of it, only the following luck that he would magically grab the paper. After a few, he snatches it up, proudly displaying it. James immediately takes it, his eyes greedily taking it in. “What an elaborate plan.”

“It’s gotta be- it’s a big heist. What matters is that we have it. Now we can create a fuckin’ game plan.” Aleks whispers, hands out grandly, his voice exuberant. Again, James looks hesitant to do anything but goes with Aleks’ words.

“Check it. Remember that map the Kingpin gave us a while ago? To be able to know where everyone’s offices are to dig for dirt? Well…” Aleks lifts a finger up, pausing the conversation momentarily. He throws a rolled-up paper, the outlines of a crude map hinting through the thin piece. James picks it apart, studying it. 

“Relaying all this information from Trevor’s transcript of what the Fake AH Crew’s heist plan is to this map, their main route is…” Aleks slides his index finger in one swift motion from a side entrance to upstairs. His digits dance around the paper, trying to follow the script of the intricate design. He finally swipes it away, out a vent and out into an alleyway. He gives a sanguine smile, excited for what this could mean for him and James. Maybe Trevor too. 

“They’re stating the money will slide through this vent, down to where…” James glances back at the script, flipping through the pages to get ahold of the specific members. “Ah- Gavin and Michael. They’ll grab the bags of money since they’re a lot closer to the van. The other two will find another escape method, not having to worry about the heavy baggage.”

“You guys can hang out in the vents,” Trevor pipes up. Aleks and James turn simultaneously, abhorring his silly plan. “You think we can fucking fit in that damn vent?” James retorts, dismissing his idea with a haughty hand wave. 

“Well, think about it. The vent cuts right through this room,” Aleks pauses to tap the room- the Conference Room. “They don’t mention this room anywhere. This can be our set-up. Check it! It’s right by a fire exit!”

“This is way too perfect. Everything aligning in our favor? That must bode something bad in the near-future…” James shrugs, capricious of this whole thing. Well, he hasn’t lost his life thus far. 

“It’s a fucking sign, then. That we gotta do it.” Aleks gets up, slamming the table with his palms, sending the other two to jump in shock. “I think I saw a costume shop around here. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

After saying bye to their new, but beloved friend, the two boys were picked up by yet another unknown stranger. This time, the man claimed to be a part of some sort of upcoming crew. He had no other members- but that would be worked out in the future. His thick Aussie accent confused the two boys, not used to the irregular slang and vocabulary of this young man. They overall ignored the guy, letting him ramble in who-knows-what lingo as they dream big about the plan turning in their heads. 

As soon as they arrived at the mansion of the Crew, James and Aleks set out to find Geoff. James trailing behind Aleks, they walked along the long corridors of the unusually-quiet house, trying to follow the sound of distant voices. They stumbled upon the Crew, Jack crossing her arms at Geoff, the lads butting heads, and Ryan standing unperturbed but downcast. Aleks waves awkwardly, without any response from the members. They stare at the interlopers and finally, Michael snaps, "What do you guys want?"

"Well, we were wondering what we're gonna do for the heist!" Aleks bounces excitedly, receiving a smirk from Ryan, with a hint of maliciousness casting a shadow. Geoff clears his throat and replies, curtly, "We, uh, have decided not to involve you two in the robbery."

Aleks stops and stares, squinting his eyes and smiling, confused. "Excuse me?"

"Listen, buds, we can't jeopardize this mission any further. You boys have been a vital asset in this, and we deeply appreciate it, but this... my boys and I have to do it alone." Jack taps her foot, the high-heel noise sending off clicks and clacks as she gives an evil glare. Geoff smiles sweetly at her and adds on, "Boys and girl." Jack rolls her eyes. 

James responds, "What about after this? Can we leave?" Geoff makes a slightly apologetic look and shrugs. "We don't know yet. For now..." Geoff whistles, sending a purple-haired woman and a red-faced young man in. The man scratched his hair, giving off scared vibes as if he had never done anything like this before, as the woman starkly contrasted him, her exuding power and boldness. She gives a wink to the two, who gulp at what Geoff is implying.

“You boys are on lockdown until we finish this up,” Geoff starts out. “Successfully,” a voice pipes in, causing Geoff’s reassurance. “Of course we’ll fucking do this in a breeze,” he ardently states, nodding his head confidently. Aleks and James look at each other, trying to hold in their smirks, keeping that illusion well-planted in the Crew’s brains.

“Let’s head out, lads,” Geoff whistles again, his entourage snapping into attention to follow him. They all make faces to each other, all hyped up for their big heist. As soon as the door shuts, the woman turns to them.

“I don’t trust you fuckers at all. Sit down,” she states, pointing to the couch. The duo straightens up, immediately following her orders. She flips her hair, then grabs some handcuffs from the man. He desperately tries to have no part in this- it’s written in his eyes. 

As the woman is clicking the lock in place, connecting each of the boys to the table, she introduces themselves. Not a good first impression, James thinks as pain shoots through his wrists as she tightens the metal bounds. “The names Mica, the buffoon’s Andy.”

“Hey!” He whines as she gives him a look. “He’s usually the computer, gadgety stuff.”

“It’s a lot more fun than risking your lives out there!” 

Mica rolls her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry about this, but I gotta keep an eye on you and I’d rather not follow you wherever you roam in the house. This way, I can watch my soaps in peace,” she gives a sweet smile to the boys, them momentarily forgetting she’s the bad guy. They let her leave without protest, now only facing Andy.

James looks at Aleks, who reciprocates the same expression. How do we get him to let us go?

“So. Andy.”

“That’s my name.” He stoically adds, flipping through a magazine on the other side of the room, his legs propped up on the couch. 

“We’ve been stuck in this damn house for nearly 2 weeks,” Aleks starts out. He blinks in the long silence. He looks up, eyes already softening.

“Hey, do you think you can let us use your phone or something to check on my parents?” Aleks asks, straining his neck to showcase his pleading eyes. Andy starts to stutter.

“Well, you mean my parents, as Aleks’ parents died when he was pretty young,” James flutters his eyelashes, depression slowly seeping throughout his face. Andy sinks his shoulders.

“Yeah, we are practically brothers now. I wanna talk to them, letting them know we are alive.”

“They have no money to organize search parties or nothing. They’re probably hoping we just lost our phones or something… They can’t afford to actually try to locate us…” 

“Jesus Christ, here. Here, come with me!” Andy hurriedly gets up, muttering how he has to do this quietly to not disturb Mica and her television. 

“Hey, one question, Andy,” James quietly poses, rubbing his wrists after Andy unlocked his first. “What’s up?” he asks breathlessly, undoing Aleks’ restrictions. “How long does Mica watch her soap operas before checking up on you?”

“Could be damn hours, especially since you guys are bounded.”

“Were,” Aleks corrects, raising his eyebrows.

James gives a small laugh, then instantly backhands Andy, sending him backward in a daze. Aleks catches him, covering his mouth promptly, smothering any screams Andy could emit. James extends a finger in front of his lips as he grabs the handcuffs. Aleks leads Andy to the garage, the complete opposite from the TV room, away from Mica. James, constantly looking over his shoulder, making sure that Mica stays put, takes a cloth, stolen from one of the dinners he sat down with the Crew, and ties it around Andy’s mouth. He implores with his blue eyes, begging them to let him go. The two can tell that this will earn a proper beating or worse from the Fake AH Crew, knowing that Andy got duped by a couple of teens. 

They both shrug, leaving him next to the Crew’s selection of cars, them taking one of the nicest-looking ones- sleek, black, shiny and fast. Andy did have to witness them arguing with hushed voices on who should drive, James ultimately winning, pulling the age card. Andy watches hopelessly, fear of the future and Geoff’s wrath, as the two boys drive free. 

After that point, driving off with the roof down, laughing wildly at their accomplishments, they couldn’t care less what happened to both Mica and Andy. When Geoff and the Crew came home with defeated faces, their shoulders depressed and lips curved downwards, seeing Andy tied up with panicking eyes and a gag shutting him up and Mica, passed out with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and the TV remote in the other, let’s say no one else could care less about them either.

They rode through the empty streets, only surrounded by miles of desolate Los Santos desert, blaring some hip-hop with Aleks mumbling what he thought the lyrics were. James drove recklessly, straight in the middle of the two opposing lanes, sometimes veering off when he had to smack Aleks for not shutting up. As soon as they made it to the city, they found their way to an empty parking lot, a couple blocks away from the bank.

“Check the news- did they strike yet?” James whispers to Aleks, who’s searching some duffel bags, filled with some cow-themed merchandise from a local costume shop. They had an endless supply of white cloth, dotted with large black spots. The two made fun of it for a little, their heads spinning at the possibilities with this. 

“They haven’t.” Aleks continues to stuff the fabric in the bags, adding a few of his useless textbooks from high school to add weight, grabbing them when they swung by James’ flat. Stepping inside felt so long ago- something mirroring a different life. However, although they both longed to just sit on their old dusty couch and watch some morning ‘toons, they did not have the time. They continued to prep silently in the convertible, thoughts amplified in their minds.

“You ready?”

“Let’s go.”

They get up, swinging the duffel bags over their shoulders, maybe posing as high school athletes, carrying around their school jersey around town like some of the douchebags at their old school. They stroll on to the bank, hell not yet raised by the Crew. Nodding to themselves, they put on some obstructive hats, pulling the brim low to cover their faces from people that might recognize James, or “Trevor.”

They walk right inside, not at all blending in with the fancy suits and ties, sophisticated hairdos and dark lipsticks. James bright blue sneakers and Aleks’ bright blonde hair peeking from behind the cap earns confused glances, but they nonetheless persist. They round the corner, heading straight into the bathrooms. They lock the door and start checking the stalls for anyone whom they’ll have to explain kindly why they should leave immediately.

“Clear here,” Aleks calls out, looking suspiciously over his shoulder. James doesn’t reply, ushering worry from Aleks. “James?”

He walks over to the other side of the long bathroom, stalls surrounding both sides of him. James’ face becomes more clear, a face with anxiety escaping through the eyes. He opens up the last stall door, revealing to Aleks a toolbox with a note atop it, resting, awaiting to be read. Aleks looks nervously towards James, who gives him that “Not it,” look. Aleks sighs and trudges inside the stall, picking up the note.

“Now it’s 50. Not $50, Aleks, $50K. Love, Joe.” Aleks gives a soft giggle, a confused one stating that he has no fucking clue how Joe knew about their plan. James gives him a shrug and says they’ll deal with it later.

“Check it out, our boy got us janitor suits and fucking keycards. How did he know we would be here?” Aleks exclaims, holding up the blue suit in awe. James plucked the outfit right from his hands, giving him a glare. “Let’s just shove this one and do this thing.”

“But you gotta admit, Joe’s being a bit sneaky. Did he talk to Trevor? What happened?”

“Who knows? But we owe him some more money so let’s focus.”

They both pull on their blue jumpsuits, complete with matching belts, fake ID cards, and keys. Aleks stops at the mirror, surrounded by bright white lights, to get a better look at himself. He runs a hand through his hair, mousing it up even more, striking a few flirtatious looks. James cleans up the bathroom, making sure their fingerprints or anything aren’t around. 

“Dude, no worries. It’s not like other people’s fingerprints aren’t in there. Chill out,” Aleks persuades him, all the while making poses in the mirror. James shakes his head and expresses, “I’m just nervous.”

“I am too, dude. Let’s get this done.”

Aleks climbs on top of the toilet, careful to make sure his Adidas doesn’t slip and wind up in the fucking toilet. James stares wistfully at how his foot is barely supported by the seat- how one roundhouse kick to the knee can get him stuck in the toilet. He shakes his head, dismissing those wishes. Aleks jumbles around with the vent, undoing the screws with some tools taken from Joe’s gift. He gets the vent cover off, revealing a perfect rectangle, just big enough to have a few boys squeeze through. Aleks gives a wink to his friend before grabbing a hold inside the hole, lugging himself in. James closes his eyes and crosses his heart, praying to someone out there that this isn’t his last day. 

The both of the boys are stuck inside the vent now. Dark, clammy, and tight around themselves, they shimmy through, grasping the duffel bags, which only made the small space become exponentially warmer, both harshly whispering at each other of who dealt one, why did they decide to go through the vent when they were wearing costumes, why didn’t they just stay at the Fakes’ home. They worm their way through what they believe to be the path to the employees’ floor, only guided by a crudely drawn map from memory from the Fake AH Crew’s files, merely a dim star in a foggy sky. After Aleks kicked James’ face for the fifth time accidentally, James yells, “Quit it! Let’s just get out at the next room! It should be the upstairs bathroom!”

“I was starting to get the hang of it,” Aleks continues dragging himself across the vent, kicking James one more time- who knows if it was inadvertent or not. James suddenly grabs Aleks’ shoe and starts beating him with it.

“Dude- ow- what the fuck!” Aleks starts kicking more, sending James into a frenzy of smacking his legs with the shoe even harder. “Those were sixty bucks, quit it, bitch!”

“You quit kicking my goddamn face!” James grabs his other shoe and starts beating him with that one as well, now that Aleks’ kicks are painless without the hard sole. “Goddamnit! James!”

As Aleks starts to turn around to strangle his partner, they both are cut out of it by a loud explosion. They look at each other, gulping. A deafening series of gunshots are fired, causing the two to duck their heads in defense, covering their ears to shield them from the loud noises. Smoke starts to fill the vents. “Oh fuckin’ hell.”

James and Aleks scramble to the nearest opening- a lonely office, decked with photographs and paperwork. They both collapse on to the floor, bags falling behind them, Aleks coughing, his legs burning. James simply rests on his back, massaging his face, soon to be riddled with bruises. “Fuck you, James.”

“Oh, shut up. Here’s ya shoes, dick.” James hurls the pair at his nuts, him automatically discharging an inhumane scream, luckily disguised by the others’ screams of terror when more gunshots ensued. “Get up, man, let’s go!” 

The two get up and run out of the room. They cut corners, going against the crowd of fleeing victims, doing everything they can to get out of there. They opposed them, going deeper into the building, closer to the action, closer to the Fake AH Crew. 

They make it to the conference room, eyes focusing on the vent that holds their entire destiny. This has got to work, they both think to themselves. Aleks grabs a screwdriver that Joe blessed them with, and gets to work. James watches the door, nothing but a chair holding the door knob in place to barricade themselves in. Aleks manages to successfully undo the cover and sticks his head in it. “There’s a light up there. It’s gotta be soon.”

James walks over, glancing behind his shoulder as if the doors might burst any moment, ready to arrest the men as part of this heist. He bends down, looking up the vent too. They turn to look at each other, both making the same face. “Now, we wait.”

Kneeled next together like a couple at Mass, they stare up into the vent, awaiting the big moment. They hear numerous more gunshots and crashes, more screams caused by the destructive Crew. Time seemed to go so slow, so very excruciating, something only able to be expressed by run-on sentences on how the clock’s ticks were played at a largo tempo, metaphors comparing the time between each breath they took to a day in the desert, diction categorized with a stagnant and sedate tone… Until footsteps above them, amplified by a hushed voice and dragging of bags, they could only assume are filled with diamonds and cash to an extreme extent, increased the speed of time for them, knocking them off their legs and springing them into action. A British voice floats to them, turning their heart rate backward, making them await the crucial part. A moment of silence. The vent above them screeching open, and one, two, three, four bags falling down one by one. And the two boys grabbing it before it can hit the ground where more Fakers wait.

They threw down their placebo bags down the vent as soon as they secured the actual money-filled bags. They contained their cheer, trying to stay quiet, only amounting it to a few gleeful squeals. 

Duffel bags filled to the brim with loot, both of them struggling to keep it in their palms, the duo burst out of the doors, running amidst of the heist. Because of the insanity generated by the constant gunfire and shouts of the Crew, no one minded these two boys running amok, giggling and squawking happily. They were deemed invisible to everyone, including the Fakers, who they almost bumped into because of their joking and laughing. They took an alternate way, leaving as quick and incognito as they came in, out an emergency exit across the hall from the conference room, and right onto James’ father’s motorcycle, the same one the two of them scuffed up all those days ago when they robbed the mayor’s home. 

James revs the bike up as Aleks swings the duffel bags on him, trying to fit all four on himself. James turns his head, half his face visible to his friend. “Ya ready?”

“Now or never, baby.” Aleks opens up one of the bags to reveal a little secret he stashed earlier. James stares at him wide-eyed, a grin displaying brilliantly. “Picked up a little souvenir from the costume store.”

“You fucking suck, Aleks.”

“You love me, bitch.” He slides on the jacket, pulling the hood up to reveal little black-and-white ears, clashing with the rest of the contrasting cow spots all over the article. He tugs one over James as well, squeezing his shoulders along the way. He yanks the hood over his hair, dark and curly coils cascading through the front.

“Yeah, I do.”

James speeds off with Aleks clutching on to his waist, whooping and cheering, attracting some attention from the citizens, crowded, worried for the hostages within. They stare, baffled, at what they could be on about, but get distracted quickly enough by the bursting of doors, the Fake AH Crew revealing themselves, equipped with full-body armor and loaded with weapons of mass destruction. They curse out the cops shooting at them, a bullet clipping one of the members- the blonde’s- shoulder. James and Aleks have no time to feel anything for them, only the sweet, sweet irony that they’re getting fucked up for twenty bucks worth of fabric and a cute, little note meant from the two. They simply lift up a finger, letting them know exactly how they feel about them, although they won’t feel the effects until… T-minus five minutes or so.

They zoom away, farther and farther from the chaos Los Santos is experiencing. They hit an empty road, some cacti and shrubs scattered around, decorating the isolated pathway. James slows down the cycle, hands loosening, sweat dripping more freely now. Aleks loosens his grip on James’ waist as well, moving his hands to clutch his shoulders. He draws circles on his back, resting his cheek. 

James swerves to get to a clear area, distant from anyone’s line of sight. He turns off the ignition, ushering Aleks to get up and stretch. He stares, adoringly, towards the city’s skyline, sighing happily through the adrenaline rush.

James bends down, opening up just one of the duffel bags. Thousands of bills- green, clean, crisp money shower him, a huge smile growing on his face as he buries his hands in it- a kid playing in the sand. Aleks covers his mouth with his hands, hiding his astonished face, taking in all of it in with his eyes. He bends down as well, grasping a wad of cash, kissing it repeatedly, earning a roll of the eyes from his partner-in-crime.

“Imagine everything we could do with this- finally, move to the rich part of town, go to college, fucking help out our buddies who can’t afford a goddamn meal… We have so much money! It was so goddamn easy to do this! Damn!” Aleks slowly says, still grasping on that this is reality. James nods, sluggishly, also trying to wrap his mind around the large amount of cash money they just acquired. He gives a big-ass grin, clapping his hands together, breaking Aleks’ reverie of making it rain or whatever he initially planned to do with his first paycheck.

“We duped the fucking AH Crew. The fuckin’ Fakers. The fuckin’ gang we were accustomed to since we were pre-teens. Can you imagine that?”

“It’s insane, James.”

“We did it. They’re probably freaking the fuck out right now, confused how we did that ole switch-a-roo!”

“We are probably on their hit list, though.”

“They can’t touch us. We’re too fucking good! This is turning the gears in my head, man.” James taps his temple, squinting his eyes happily. The sun reflects the shine of their success. It starts to disillusion the sky into waving, melting, onto the sand. 

“What if we worked with them?”

“Excuse me?”

“Listen. FakeHaus, Little Roosters? These little organizations that might not be friends with the Crew… but aren’t hunted down by them? What if we allied ourselves with them?”

Aleks starts to envision this. His eyes focus out into the distance, back to where the loud sirens originated, the blue and red flashes echoing. He shakes his head slowly, starting to come in close terms with the idea. “You think they’ll agree?”

“They have to deal with us stealing all their money- or work with us so they never get embarrassed publicly again. Kind of an ingenious plan.”

“James, you’re a legend."


	10. Epilogue

Geoff sips some lemonade, appreciating the scenery of Los Santos below his feet, exactly where they should be. He shoves a tattooed hand in his pocket, his watch catching onto the fabric of his dress pants. He takes another sip, swishing the sour liquid between his teeth before gulping it down. He kicks a pebble, looking back up once more to stare at the city. He gives a light smile, a face of serenity dancing upon his features. He turns around, stepping back into the mansion, the house overlooking the City of Saints. The house he bought with some money accumulated throughout his years of leading the Fake AH Crew, some money he kept on the side from each heist, not knowing where it would go to until he had this brilliant idea. A special headquarters for the Let’s Heist groups. 

It wasn’t until the two teenagers who fucked his gang, not once, but twice, came up to him, dangling their stolen money above his head. In simplicity, they asked to ally up with the Fake AH Crew, along with all of their allies, FakeHaus, Kinda Fake, Little Roosters, Lazarus, all of them. Create something bigger than just a unification, a mere confederation- a functioning organization, working together to be big. Be infamous. 

Thus Fake Chop entered the fray of the Let’s Heist groups, bringing in their own pizazz, their own uniqueness and charm. Aleks Marchant, the smooth talker who could wink to a source of information and they’d spill everything as he smiled. Specializing in intel, he could speak a surprising number of languages, and he was eager to learn even more, something they had not seen before. Language can be very effective for future plans. Then James Wilson, the man behind every plan Aleks went along with, the one who could hatch up something within seconds when under pressure. Sweating and with a pounding heart, he’s still able to make the best and tactical decision that will confirm their success. Extremely precise and detail-oriented, he’s a great builder who can ensure each design would be a guaranteed victory, being able to break down the statistics of measurements of success versus failure. Another vital thing that would be greatly treasured in Geoff’s community.

He takes another sip of his drink, his shoes clicking against the tile floor as he makes eye contact with one of his fellow members. Michael gives a nod, which perks up everyone to notice the Kingpin. Everyone cheers and hoorays for their leader, the man behind it all, behind the greatness that is the Let’s Heist network. Everyone sitting in this room has Geoff Lazer Ramsey to thank, the man who gave them something to live- and die- for. They wait in anticipation for what he’s about to say.

“Welcome everyone. Before I begin, let me introduce the newest recruits. Say hello to Fake Chop.”


End file.
